


the rebranding

by huff_le_puff



Series: No Second Chances Allowed [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Absent Parents, Abusive Relationships, Adults Being Idiots, Aftermath of Torture, Arthur Weasley IS Everyone's Dad, Blood Quills (Harry Potter), Blood and Injury, But that’s okay, Cho Chang Is Not A Bad Person, Chronic Pain, Coming Out, Confrontations, Dolores Umbridge Being an Asshole, Dolores Umbridge is Her Own Warning, Duelling, Dumbledore's Army, Enemies to Friends, Fake Character Death, Fights, Filius Flitwick Cares, Filius Flitwick Is So Proud Of His Murder Daughter, Filius Flitwick Is a Duellist, Food Issues, Found Family, Goblins, Grief/Mourning, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Harry Potter is Not Okay, He Talks About Her To Everyone, Healing, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Identity Swap, Intervention, Lee Jordan As Announcer, Lydia Is Bad At Self-Care, Lydia kind of hates dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey Is Worried About Her Murder Daughter, Mentioned Cho Chang, Misguided Albus Dumbledore, Nightmares, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Scheming, Secret Crush, Seer Luna Lovegood, Shopping, Sibling Love, Sirius Black Is Good With Kids, Sparring, Stop Hating Cho Chang, Storytelling, Teenagers, Torture, Traditions, Typical McBrien Family Violence, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but he definitely isn't good, but she's learning, he's not the worst, kids being kids, so both will suffer, they both like each other but they're idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huff_le_puff/pseuds/huff_le_puff
Summary: Lydia’s tried all this time to get as far away from her family’s values as possible. But with a toad in Hogwarts hurting students and a government that condones it… Maybe she should just accept the violence in her blood.
Relationships: Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Ginny Weasley & Luna Lovegood& Lydia McBrien, Ginny Weasley & Lydia McBrien, Ginny Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter & Lydia McBrien, Harry Potter & Original Female Character(s), Lydia McBrien & Neville Longbottom, LydiaMcBrien " Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Neville Longbottom & Original Female Character(s), Poppy Pomfrey & Lydia McBrien, Poppy Pomfrey & Original Female Character(s)
Series: No Second Chances Allowed [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659640
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Order of the KFC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia is so very confused this summer, what with her dad actually being nice to her for once. Luckily she doesn’t stay confused long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: there’s one mention of pedophilia/a child being arranged for marriage with an adult, typical McBrien Family violence

Lydia being sent to the States immediately after her friend dying was not a good thing. It meant she couldn’t grieve ‘properly’ and instead used violence. Of course, her dad was very happy, and he had decided to forget last summer.

It was _not_ good for all the trainees Lydia was sparring with.

Landing another blow to the girl’s side, Lydia thought about the past week.

When she had arrived home, Henry and Nicolas had escorted Lydia to her room, where Nicolas’ bed was set up in place of her own.

“Didn’t think you’d come back, so we gave it to Wanda. She’s gonna be your replacement, once she’s trained up a bit.” Leaning in, Henry had whispered, “And my wife, when she’s eighteen.”

“How old is she now?”

“Twelve. But only six years to wait.”

“You’re nineteen, you fucking pervert!”

Henry had left quickly.

Nicolas had sat on his bed, and looked at her awkwardly.

Setting down her bag, she gave him a smile. “Hey, little brother. Miss me?”

“You left without saying bye. Why did you go?”

She sighed and brought herself to sit on the floor. “You’re big now, right? Just turned five?”

He nodded.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth. Daddy didn’t like me hanging out with someone. You remember all the yelling last summer?”

“And you didn’t eat, so I snuck you apples.”

“Yeah. I had to leave when Daddy wouldn’t see because otherwise I would have missed the train for school.”

“Oh. Why did Daddy make you stay in here?”

“He was mad at me, and sometimes Daddy’s are stupid when they’re mad.”

Nicolas nodded like he knew that was true, and it broke Lydia a little. Then, he stood to grab Lydia’s hand. After dragging her to the bed, he frowned at her. “Take a nap. You haven’t been sleeping.”

“Nicolas,” she sighed. “Sleep is harder when you grow up.”

“So? Try.” Then he left, and she was forced to nap.

She had woken with a nightmare, and went to the training rooms to spar her adrenaline off.

She had been halfway through a kick bag when her father walked in.

“Since when does my girl like to spar at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep, figured I may as well train. That’s what you used to like.”

He had laughed, loud and booming but nothing like Hagrid. “Nah, this work ain’t simple training. My little girl’s angry. You’re real angry. Tell me, why are you angry?”

“Because, tragedy exists.”

“Mm, it does. Why does it exist?”

“Because people are bad.”

“Like me?”

“Like you.”

He laughed again. 

“You know, it’s refreshing to hear something out of the mouth that doesn’t belong to my yes men.”

“You won’t like it so much by the end of this summer.”

He shrugged. “Likely, I won’t. Lydia, I know you don’t like it here, so what do you say to a proposition.”

“Elaborate.”

“Every morning, before your brother wakes up, we train. just you and me. Until lunch, you and your brother spend time together. In the afternoons you get a job, and when you come home, Nicolas and you will have training until bedtime.”

“What’s his training?”

“How I trained you didn’t work. Nicolas won’t learn the real stuff until he’s ten. For now, just self defense and manipulation arts.”

“Fine. I can choose where I work?”

“We can even put a different name on your forms so you don’t get McBrien privilege.”

“Alright. Uh, thanks Dad.”

Which brings us to now. The entire week, Lydia did exactly as her father had offered that night. She got up at the crack of dawn, sparred and trained for two hours, then woke her brother up to play and teach him reading. (So far he could read about half the letter she wrote him months ago.)

Then after lunch, she would go to her job at the town’s ice cream shop, work for four hours, and return to the house. Nicolas would have dinner, she would get a snack, then she and Nicolas would learn what the Company called ‘mental arts’. This was really just manipulation and how to lie.

At bedtime, Lydia would tell Nicolas bedtime stories and they’d share his small twin bed.

It wasn’t all so easy, however, every three or four days Lydia’s grandmother would come back from what she called ‘missions’ and would force Lydia to put on a dress along with makeup and curl her hair, then walk through the neighborhood. Not only was she whistled at by men that had to be her father’s age if not older, but her cousins would jump out of various hiding places and chase her until she tripped, then assault her with punches and kicks. It had left her with plenty of bruises. That wasn’t even mentioning the fact that when her grandmother had caught her wearing a sweatshirt the woman had nearly ripped her arm out of its socket in her haste to take it from Lydia.

This summer wasn’t the worst, but it was exhausting.

Currently, she was doing her morning sparring with a trainee named Joslyn. 

Joslyn tried to choke Lydia, and Lydia simply bit her wrist until it bled. Joslyn, shrieking, took off out of the room.

Lydia’s father sighed. “Stop scaring away the trainees.”

“You take softies now?”

He shook his head. “It’s almost dawn, start cooling down. And Lydia?”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, then said, “Why are you full of rage?”

“Because tragedies exist.”

“And why do tragedies exist?”

“Because people are bad.”

“And why are people bad?”

This was a new question.

“I don’t know.”

Her dad never looked soft, and now wasn’t an exception. “Because people like you let them be. Go get your brother up.”

She doesn’t question it because she and Nicolas are having too much fun together to bother. 

Nicolas gasps from the bed, where he had been struggling for the past 45 minutes trying to write his name.

“Lydia!”

“What's up, kiddie?”

“My pigeon is gone!”

“...Your _what now?_ ”

Nicolas gave a long sigh. “My pigeon, Mister Crumbs.”

“I thought Mister Crumbs was a stuffed animal!”

“Why would I name a stuffie Mister Crumbs? That’s just silly.”

Lydia had to take a very deep breath to handle this. “Where did you get a pigeon? Pigeons don’t just... _chill_ in goddamn Blue Stone.”

“Oh, I found him on a windshield.”

“On a...Oh hell no. What on-”

He poke her cheek. “We have to find him!”

She really had to contemplate if she wanted to leave early for the ice cream parlor or not. She decided no, because it was cold there. 

“I’m gonna tell you something my friend told me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Lost things have a way of turning up, whether it’s shoes or...pigeons.”

“I want a friend. Do you think they’d call me a nickname, like on TV?”

“I bet they would.”

He smiled. “We could be friends, right?”

Nodding she promised, “We are. So that means I can call you a nickname right?”

“Yeah!”

She held out her hand. “Hello, Nicky.”

Grinning, he shook her hand. “Hello, Lydi!”

Lydia, on the last day of July, finishes penning her letter and rolls it up. 

She had just finished writing to Harry, and she would send it off when she got back to Ireland. 

Speaking of getting back to Ireland, tonight should be her last here. 

It hasn’t been an awful summer, nowhere near as bad as the last. But it hasn’t been great either. She has several bruises from her cousins and grandmother, because she didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. 

(She also may have swung at Henry when he suggested Nicky learn how sparring feels.)

So, after tucking Nicky into bed and sleeping for a few hours, Lydia gets up like every other night. 

Usually she’ll use the time to study her Muggle work, but tonight she has something else to do. 

Pulling a sweatshirt over her pyjamas, she tiptoes her way to her father’s office. 

She knocks twice, then goes in. 

“Dad, I leave before breakfast tomorrow.”

He nods. 

“Is there anything I need to do before then?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’ve done enough this summer. One thing before you go, though. You’re taking Nicolas with.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Did that blow from Henry make you deaf? Your brother is unneeded at his age, you’ll be taking care of him until I have use of him. You’ve proven yourself capable.”

“It was a test! All this time, I thought-”

He laughs. “You thought I had _changed_ , had you? This is why I’ve always been hard on you, Lydia Beth. You are weak, naive, and stupid. People like us don’t change. You can't change your destiny, your DNA. You’re like me, and always will be.”

She glared as hard as she could. “I’m going to get Nicky up.”

“Just a moment.”

“What?”

“Why are you full of rage?”

“Tragedy,” she spits. 

“What is the tragedy?”

She spins around and leaves, hearing her father laugh. 

It’s only after she and Nicky are dropped at her flat in Sligo and Remus and Sirius have left that Lydia lets herself relax for the first time since June. After everything her father had told her that night, she just wants to cry herself to sleep.

Looking at the half snoozing five year old on her hip, that isn’t happening. She has a responsibility now.

She tiptoes her way into her room and places Nicky on her own bed, draping the worn quilt over him.

After that’s done and she’s sure he won’t wake with her gone, she makes her way to her grandfather and mom’s room.

Her mom isn’t there, bed made perfectly - her grandfather’s work.

“Grandfather, are you awake?”

The bedside lamp clicks on, and her grandfather blinks at her tiredly.

“Lydia, is that you?”

“Yeah, I just got back. Can we talk?”

He chuckles and sits up all the way, patting the space beside him on the bed. “Come here, tell me what happened.”

She sighs and sits, then blurts everything out. “Dad was surprisingly nonviolent, granted the cousins and grandmother were the opposite. When I left this morning Dad made me take Nicky, apparently he’s been testing me all month and he says I’m responsible enough to take care of Nicky full time.”

Grandfather sighs angrily. “Goddamn that man. Lydia, you have school.”

“I _know_ I do, Grandfather! But I had no choice. Please, tell me what to do.”

He sighs again, but kisses her forehead as to say he isn’t upset. “Do you want to take care of your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, you may for the summer. After that I will care for the boy whilst you continue your studies. But you will not be dropping out to become his guardian, do you understand?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Good. Now, you haven’t unpacked your things, have you?”

“No, why?”

“I received a visit from that nice Arthur Weasley. You’ve been invited to spend the summer at this Headquarters place, he wouldn’t tell me exactly where.”

“Probably a charm to keep it secret.”

He hummed. “Whatever the reason, I trust that man to keep you safe. You may bring your brother if they allow it, if not we’ll figure it out.”

She nodded and laid her head on his shoulder.

“I missed you, Grandfather.”

“I always miss you, my Lydia.”

She smiled, but it vanished when he asked, “How bad was it this time?”

“Nothing makeup won’t cover when I see the twins. I’m just really tired from all the sparring.”

“Emotionally?”

She whispered, “Cedric died, and then I went to see Dad and Grandmother. I could be better.”

She felt him gasp, but it was silent. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have-”

“Grandfather, it’s _Dad._ He wouldn’t have let me stay, especially not if he really needed me for something. Which, he apparently did”

Grandfather sighed and covered her with his blanket. “Sleep for a few hours, I’ll call Arthur tomorrow and ask when you can go.”

* * *

_Harry,_

_I’m so sorry for not writing you this summer! I’ve been in the States since the train got off at King’s Cross. As of writing this, It’s the day before your birthday, so I know your presents won’t get to you until we see each other again. I couldn’t bear to do that to an owl, even if I could find one. (And where would I, the woods?)_

_I can’t say I’m doing anything much to write about, unlike Luna or Daichi. I’ve been sparring every morning, studying, taking care of my little brother (Nicky), and working at the local ice cream parlor. Between us, the ice cream is nowhere near Fortescue’s. Though, I doubt any Muggle could come close, especially to the gummy worm flavor. (Have you tried it? The worms wriggle in the ice cream and it’s sickeningly awesome.)_

_My family is acting weird. Well, my dad is. The rest are their normal boring selves. Dad’s been nice to me, almost? It’s weird. Nicky is cute, and surprisingly nice. He snuck me an apple from dinner just last Tuesday, which has to be the nicest thing any family has ever done for me._

_By the time you get this, I’ll be back in Ireland, and possibly at HQ for the Order of KFC. (Does Britain have KFC? If not y’all are missing out.)_

_Are they being as secretive about everything in your letters as well? The most Ginny will tell me is HQ is dirty and she misses the Burrow. The twins have mentioned mostly the joke shop, but when I asked they said they were told not to write much. They also said they tried and a charm rewrote what they said so it had nothing about the HQ. Weird, right?_

_In my opinion, this whole secrecy thing the adults are trying is bullshit. Obviously you’ll find out at some point anyway. My Grandfather always said that a secret is always revealed, usually at the wrong time and violently. Secrets never come out how the keeper intends._

_Happy birthday, by the way! I hope you like the mars bars I’ve attached to the letter. I know I miss them while at Hogwarts._

_I hope the other present I give you will fit. If not, I’m sure an adult could resize it for you. I found it in the thrift shop here in Blue Stone, and thought of you. Now you can match your godfather! Oh no, that probably gave it away, didn’t it?_

_I wanted to get you this cool necklace, it’s got a pretty jewel on it that buzzes if you’re being followed. But it was out of my price range, so maybe next year. Oh! I almost forgot - check the flap on one of the mars bars. There’s a charm attached to it with tape. You might have seen the twins, Ginny, Luna, and Neville using them. Hurry and attach it to the necklace chain (other mars bar) and press the flower charm. (wink)_

_Gotta go, Nicky just hurt himself. Kids are so accident prone._

_Lydia M._

* * *

Lydia had made her way to the nearest library in Sligo late one day that week, after a fight with her mom. She was currently walking around the adult section of the library with nearly ten books piled high in her arms, struggling with the weight. 

“Hey there sweetheart, need help?”

Lydia looked up at the librarian, and noticed their name tag said “Nessa” in bold lettering. 

“Oh, yeah actually, that would be great.”

Nessa smiled and took the top four books. 

When they made it to an empty table, Nessa finally glanced at a few of the covers. 

“Your Ma just had a baby?”

Lydia shrugged. Tapping the title of one, _Babbling Beast: Or Child?_ , she whispered, “My dad wants me to start babysitting my little brother, so I’m trying to learn.”

Nessa nodded. “How old is he?”

“Five.”

Nessa hummed, then scanned each book’s titles. “ _The Mystery Behind Mothering, The Parenting Code, Taking the Pain Out of Parenting…_ So these are more general. I suggest this one here, _Don’t KID Yourself, Parenting Can Be Easy_. It’s more about the age group your brother is. The pun is off putting, but it looks credible.”

Lydia nodded and quickly thumbed through the pages. “Thanks, Nessa. Any other suggestions?”

Nessa bit her lip. “Hm, _The Complete Guide To Children_ is a boring read but has tons of info. We have a copy in the return bin I can get for you.”

Lydia nodded. “That would be great.”

Nessa smiled and gave Lydia's head a pat. “Brill. Just have fun with this while I check the book back into our system.”

By the time Lydia left, having read both books, the sun had set and she had to walk home in the dark. 

Walking home in the dark didn’t particularly scare her, but she tried not to make a habit of it as her grandfather was always worried when she returned and overly protective. 

When she shut the door behind her with a creak, her grandfather was sitting at the kitchen table with Nicky, who was inhaling spaghetti like it was his last meal. 

“Hi, Grandfather, Nicky.”

Her grandfather sighed. “Did you need to leave?”

She shrugged. “Mom was defending him again. I went to the library.”

He shook his head but didn’t bother continuing the argument, instead gesturing to their wall phone. 

“I spoke with Arthur. He’ll be here with one of the men that brought you back, and they’ll take you to this headquarters place.”

She grinned. “When?!”

“Tomorrow.”

Lydia couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped. “Ah, thank you! Can I go pack?”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Eat first. I made spaghetti and bread.”

She hopped onto the counter to eat, thinking they needed to splurge for a fourth chair. 

* * *

Ginny is much too perceptive for her own good. (And everyone else’s.) 

She had been the one to meet Lydia, Remus, and Mr. Weasley at the door to HQ, and had immediately latched onto Lydia’s arm. 

After they had made it up to the room given to Ginny and Hermione, the girl yelled, “LYDIA’S HERE!”

Immediately two synched pops sounded and the twins were rushing to hug her. Nicky got stuck in the middle and let out a whine.

“Off, you peabrains. You’re crushing a kid.”

They restrained themselves, for once.

George kneeled to face Nicky. “Hey squirt, what’s your name?”

He squinted at George. “Are you friend?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am!”

“I’m Nicky.”

Lydia smiled. “Nicky, this is George, that’s Fred, and that over there is Ginny. They’re the Weasleys I told you about.”

Nicky crossed his arms and glared. “But I wanna be your only brother!”

Lydia winced at the volume. 

Laughing, Ginny nudged Fred’s shoulder. “Go bond with your new brother. Lydia and I have talking to do.”

Groaning silently, Lydia told her brother, “Go on, Bubs. The twins will be nice. Won’t you two?”

“Yes’m”

“Yes’m”

Once alone, Ginny shoved Lydia onto her bed.

“Gin, what the hell?”

“What the hell did your dad do?”

Sighing, Lydia let her head thunk against the mattress. “It’s nothing.”

“Mhm. So nothing makes you neglect your favorite jumper, wince at loud noises, hesitate around my brothers, and cover every inch of your skin in badly applied concealer?”

“Hey, I did a good job - wait.”

Smirking Ginny sat over Lydia’s lap, pinning her. “You admitted it, surprising. So whatever he did also made you too tired to lie properly. I ask again, what did that bastard do?”

She sighs, and tangles her hand with Ginny’s. 

“He’s a hardass, okay? He made me train too much, and play Mummy to Nicky. Add that to three hours of sleep a night because of nightmares… I’m tired.”

“Then why the concealer? We’ve all seen you tired, you don’t even get eyebags.”

She covered her eyes with her free hand. “The training is physical, that’s all. I forgot how to spar well.”

“Mhm, sparring, sure. What kind of sparring leaves bruises around your neck?”

“What-” She brought the hand to her neck, only to discover the concealer had bled off. “How did you do that? It lasts twenty four hours.”

“When I hugged you I noticed you flinched back. All it took was an arm around your shoulder, and I could use a makeup wipe without you noticing. The screaming portrait helped.”

“Fucking hell, I taught you too much.”

Ginny grinned, but it faded. “Did your dad do this?”

“No, my cousin Henry. He’s always been violent towards me, and my grandmother only encourages it.”

Ginny noticed her scratching at the scar over her cheek and whispered, “He did that too?”

“Please, don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. So...why no jumper?”

Lydia sighed, but this one was easier to answer. “Grandmother doesn’t like me wearing it. She ripped it off one time, threatened to burn it. Nearly took my arm with it, actually.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re tender there.”

Lydia snorted. “God, I regret teaching you anything about observation.”

“Too late now!”

Lydia darted her hand up to tickle Ginny’s ribs and the girl fell forward, their heads nearly clashing.

It was that moment that the twins walked back in with Nicky.

“Woah, are we-”

“-interrupting our little sister’s gay awakenning?”

Lydia laughed hard as Ginny jumped up to smack her brothers, and Nicky came darting over into her lap.

“Lydi?”

“Yeah, bubs?”

“What’s a gay awakening?”

The twins laughed harder, and Ginny tackled them.

* * *

She’d only been there three days before Sirius approached her after breakfast. She had been arguing with Mrs. Weasley, because Lydia had been unable to finish her breakfast and the woman was offended, when the man came to her rescue. 

“Lydia, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you, I really need your help in the library.”

Hermione, passing, said, “I thought we couldn’t go in there because of a family blood curse?”

“I think I might’ve figured out how to pass it, I’m just curious about Lydia's interpretation. She’s the best at charms in her year.”

Hermione’s offended look would fuel Lydia's patronus, if she had one.

Following Sirius, she blinked in surprise as he immediately led her in. “I’m not a Black.”

“No, but there’s not a curse. I just want one place nobody else goes. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all, I get it. It’s your house.”

He snorted. “Surprisingly.”

“Uh, Mr. Black, not that I don’t appreciate you letting me in - I mean god, the goddamn size of this place is amazing! - but what am I here for?”

“Firstly, stop calling me Mr, Black. Second, we should probably talk about the letters at some point. It’s dangerous over post now. But I wanted to get to know you, too. I know all of Harry’s friends except you, and I have a hunch he’s closer with you than they all realize.”

She snorted. “Well, we do meet in secret, but not to do what you’re thinking. Mostly we just spend time together away from everything else. God knows Harry needs it, with his fame, and I need time away so I don't strangle idiots.”

“Merlin, kid, you remind me way too much of myself. You sure you’re not Remus and I’s kid from a different universe?”

“As if. Nope, I’m Lydia McBrien, a girl from Blue Grass in the States.”

He led her to a small coffee table, where on either side sat armchairs. 

“Take one, kid. So, tell me about Lydia McBrien. Just give me a bullet point list.”

Grinning, she ticked ten things off her fingers. “One, I enjoy receiving knives for gifts. Two, I like rain. Three, I’ve always been scared of cutting my hair shorter than what can be plaited. Four, I’ve never enjoyed being in the spotlight but I’m good at it. Five, I have metal in my back. Six, I learned how to spar at four years old. Seven, people always say my eyes light up like fire when I'm angry. Eight, I’m allergic to all meat except chicken and turkey. Nine, I actually quite like playing pranks, I’m just underestimated. Ten...I was trained really young to hurt people and I’m scared of myself.”

“I-“ He blinked at her.

“Your turn, old man.”

Laughing, he quickly listed off, “I went to Azkaban for a crime I didn’t commit. Two, I like leather jackets. Three, I’ve been arrested in the Muggle world for protesting. Four, I built my own motorcycle. Five, I’m fluent in French. Five, I used to be a flirt but only slept with two people - ah fuck, is that inappropriate? Six, My name is after the dog star. Seven, I gave all my tattoos to myself. Eight, I think you’re terrifying because you’re so much like me. Nine, being in this house is my worst nightmare. Ten, my favorite flavor of ice cream is toffee.”

She laughed a little. “Wow, that was more than a simple get to know you, wasn’t it?”

“You alright, kid? That was pretty deep.”

“Yeah, it felt good to tell somebody. But don’t tell-”

“I won’t. I’m the same amount of scared as before, just so you know. What if you eat meat accidentally? I don’t want to kill you.”

“It’ll be fine. George and I invented a spell in second year to let me know if my food had any of my allergens.”

“Wait fuck, really? That’s bloody insane.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Anyway, the letter? What about it?”

“How am I getting out of here to go, for one?”

“Argrig has set up a meeting for just me in London on the 27th of August, so hopefully we’ll get our school things then, and I can meet with him. Until we can find a better solution, I’ll be your go through for this. I do have a question before, however?”

“Yeah?”

“What date do you want custody of Harry by, and be realistic.”

“Christmas?”

“How about the end of the school year? Christmas only gives us four and a half months, and it’ll be slow going.”

“Fine, but I’ll get him before he goes back to his Uncle and Aunt’s right? I worry.”

She gave a sigh. “I worry too. Argrig wants to give you custody, so that should help. Next question, the name change. Thoughts?”

“Like I said, I agree, and with the death thing.”

“You’ll need a new name. Ideas? The surname will have to be Zimmer, but the first is up to you.”

“Uh, what do you think?’

“Simon. Your initial will stay the same, and you could look the part with some changes.”

“Wait, wait. How much are we changing?”

“Not too much, just enough that you won’t look like Sirius Black. We’ll probably make some Potter features, so soften the jaw a bit, hazel eyes, thicker brows, tanner skin… That’s it really. Anything else can be attributed to the Zimmer side. Plus there’s no one to dispute it because the Zimmers died off a few years ago.”

He nodded, then asked, ”And how will I stay like that? Reapplying charms is dangerous.”

“It is. That’s why I suggest a goblin glamor. They’re far superior to our own, and can be worn on a necklace. One of which you already have and wear.” She pointed to the motorcycle pendant on his chest.

He sighed, pulling his arms to rest them behind his head. 

“Yeah, alright. You seem like a smart kid, so I’ll take your word for it. You know these things better than I do, anyway, if you’re as close to Flitwick as everyone says.”

She blushed a little. “Yeah, I guess so. He tells me a little here and there.”

Sirius leaned forward then, mischief in his eyes. “So, about you and my godson.”

“Oh for fuck - we’re not dating!”

“But I like you! Harry likes you, both of you get along. Plus, you’re scary and if Harry is like his dad he needs a scary girl!”

Lydia shook her head. 

“Never gonna happen, old man.”

Sirius shook his head. “Okay fine, I’ll let it go for now. Real question...how did you not react to my mother’s screaming at least once? Everyone still cringes, yet…”

She snorted.

“My grandmother screams way louder than that idiotic mushroom shit you’ve got for a mother.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh. 

“I like you, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves, I almost didn’t finish this, everything has been insane lately. As an American, this election left me riddled with fear and anxiety constantly, but thankfully it’s over and I can get back to a normal schedule.  
> 1\. just a reminder that Lydia is a child trying to survive in her situation, and not everything she does will be morally right. she’s just trying to survive the way she knows how.  
> 2\. “You can't change your destiny, your DNA. You’re like me, and always will be.” Remember this quote, it’s important ;)  
> 3\. Ginny is THE best friend tbh.  
> 4\. The no curse thing is so funny to me lol. I just know he wouldn’t want kids in the Black library of all places, plus he needs time to himself.  
> 5\. Sirius shipping Lydia and Harry is the best thing rn.  
> 6\. “You sure you’re not Remus and I’s kid from a different universe?” ha. ha ha. a multiverse? no way ;)  
> 7\. I did research that didn’t even get put in, but basically the protest Sirius was talking about was “Rock Against Racism” which started ~1976 after a rise in racist attacks.  
> 8\. The Lydia being allergic to meat thing is based off me :) life is hell
> 
> word: 4754
> 
> Next Week: The tension within Grimmauld Place doesn’t stop the teenagers from having fun in their remaining time before school, but Nicky’s first pain spell sure does.


	2. The Screaming Inside Grimmauld Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry screams, Nicky screams, and of course Walburga Black's portrait screams. Really, it's a miracle no one's gone deaf.

Shopping with Mrs. Weasley was always an odd experience. Especially because both Ginny and Lydia were the type of person that picked something right away, tried it on, and decided not to look further. 

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione hated their method.

Tonks loved it.

Ginny had walked into the Muggle dress store, seen a puffy purple dress, and immediately dragged Lydia to a blueish purple dress similar, except that it was glittery and didn’t have a puffed up waist and sleeves.

After Lydia had taken the dress off its hanger to look, Ginny dragged her along to a dressing stall, where they changed.

“Oh, Lydia,” Mrs. Weasley had winced when she saw, “Are you sure you’re not a little young for something without sleeves? You’re only fifteen...:”

Lydia had frowned. “What’s wrong with no sleeves? Plus, I’ll be sixteen by the time I actually wear this.”

Tonks took the dress from her and hummed. “Nice. It won’t hug your skin tight but it shows a little figure, glittery along the skirt but not under your arms where it would itch, and purple accents along the trim. I like it, Lydia.”

Ginny grinned. “See, Lyds? I told you it looked good.”

Lydia and Ginny went to change back into their normal Muggle clothes, and even spent a good half hour goofing off. 

Alas, when they returned to the main lobby of the store, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were still looking. Hermione was even in a heated debate with the cashier, who looked like she’d never wanted a job less.

“Look, kid, I don’t know what Viyella is! We have all our fabric on display, anything you don’t see  _ we do not have _ .”

Ginny sighed and threw her head back.

Tonks appeared beside them from a rack of tulle dresses and gave her own sigh.

“You two could’ve warned me we wouldn’t be getting out before lunch. Personally, I prefer these jeans and a band tee. But hey, that’s just me.”

There wasn’t even a good reason for dress shopping, unless you counted the annual Valentine’s Day Dance. Apparently, it was a well kept secret from students under their fifth year, and only because it happened after curfew.

Two of the House Heads, this year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, would take the 5-7th years out to an empty area in the highlands to do...something. She doesn’t know because, again, it was a very well kept secret. The only reason she knew is because Mrs. Weasley had needed to convince her to come, and Bill Weasley had spilled the beans.

Secret or not, she was excited. Though that might partly be the chance to see Harry’s face when he found out he’d have to dance again.

She glanced to her right, where Ginny had been, but the girl wasn’t there. Mentally screaming, Lydia turned to her left,where Tonks would be.

Tonks was staring up at the ceiling with an expression between horrified and delighted.

“Oh fucking hell!” Lydia swore in a whisper.

Above them, hanging from the rafters, Ginny swung like a monkey.

The dress she had tried on was hanging on a nearby rafter with the hanger, and looked much safer than its soon to be owner. Ginny’s knees were hooked around her own rafter, which was slowly but surely bending under her weight, and Ginny was choosing to swing herself back and forth. One of her converse shoes, red with painted gold stars to support Gryffindor, was untied and about to slip off.

Tonks grinned down at Lydia.

“Fucking hell, indeed. Have I mentioned I want to hang out with you more? Because I do.”

* * *

Lydia is starting to think adults are idiots. She’s always thought it, but now she actually knows for sure.

Not only did the adults think leaving Harry with his awful relatives longer than required by so-called blood wards was a fine idea, they also thought cutting him off from his friends was smart. You’re telling her that sending a traumatized kid off to live with his relatives that likely did some of the traumatizing, after watching a friend die, is a good idea? And then they didn’t even get him help to process the trauma! But it gets worse. After his, and his cousin’s, souls are nearly sucked dry, they leave him in that same household, knowing he would likely be blamed, as well as dealing with the fact that he was expelled and had a legal trial to go through? As a barely fifteen year old?

No, adults were absolute idiots.

She sighed from where she was lying on the floor of the twins’ room.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” Fred asks, and he gets down to lay next to her.

George comes to her other side, and starts playing with her loose hair.

“I’m angry with how Harry’s been treated. You can’t tell me being ignored, attacked, and traumatized is good for him. Plus, we know how the Dursleys are. he’s probably a wreck.”

George nodded, staring down at her. “We know, it’s ridiculous. But what should we do?”

She shrugged. “I always thought adults were kind of stupid, but I just want to know what they’re thinking!”   
Fred adds, ever so helpfully, “Ron and Hermione barely even wrote to him all year, ‘cept his birthday. It can’t have been easy.”

She nodded. “Did you hear how frustrated he sounded last night? I hope he’s okay.”

Fred settled his head against her shoulder.

“Well it’s the sixth, right? That’s when Tonks said they were getting him.”

Lydia nodded, but she didn’t say anything.

To change the subject, George joked, “So did Mum notice you snuck your food onto Nicky’s plate this morning?’

She tried to hold back her grin, but when they laughed she let it form fully. “She didn’t, I don’t think. But god, I hope she stops worrying about it.”

Fred nudged her. “Hey, at least when Harry’s here she’ll let off you.”

Lydia went to reply, but suddenly they heard yelling.

Lydia shot up in excitement.

“I know that particular yell!”

George waved his wand, tying her hair up.

The twins stood and helped her to her feet, and grinned.

“Hold on, Princess.”

“We’re going through a tube!”   
She only had time to suck in a breath before they apparated.

They nearly landed on top of Ron, and the twins dramatically flopped over him and the younger began to wrestle them. Lydia easily scrambled away from it and went to Harry excitedly.

“Harry, hey!”

He turned to her, and seemed to forcibly soften his glare.

“Hi, Lydia. You alright?”

“Better, now you’re here. We heard your yells all the way upstairs. I thought you could do with some chocolate. It calms the beast within, Remus says.”

He stared at her in silence for a very long moment before taking the chocolate and ripping it open.

“Professor Lupin’s here?”

She smiled. “Yeah, though he doesn’t stop by so much lately. Sirius is excited to see you, though, let’s go.”

Hermione tried to stop them. “Wait, a meeting’s about to start! We can’t go downstairs.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “If you think Sirius cares more for a meeting he’ll fall asleep in than Harry, you’re dim. C’mon, Lightning!”

She continued to drag him, and he chuckled softly as he gnawed on the chocolate.

“Were you lying back there? About him-”

She stopped mid flight on the stairs and looked at him seriously.

“Harry, he loves you more than anything in the world, alright? He’d do anything for you. Now come on, he’s been begging me for information on you and a girl can only go so long before she stabs a clingy old man.”

Harry’s nose scrunched in disgust and she nodded.

“Yeah, bad word choice.”

They made it to the bottom of the stairs just before Sirius and Mundungus stepped inside.

“Sirius!” Lydia called, hiding Harry a little behind her.

He smiled at her. “Hey, kiddie. You alright?”

She nodded back. “Yeah, but can I talk to you for a sec?”

Mundungus held a dirty hand up. Was that charcoal on his hands?

“Nah, he’s busy. Gotta get in and you can’t come.”

She rolled her eyes and sent him a glare that made his hand lower with a shake.

“Shut your mouth before more idiocy falls out, ‘Dungus. Sirius?”

Sirius, laughing, sent Mundungus in. “I’ll be in, start without me.”

Mundungus went in with a grumble, and Sirius turned to her.

“What’s this about, kiddie?”

She smiled and stepped to the side, watching as Sirius’ face lit up.

He took four quick strides closer to Harry, and picked him up. Swinging him sound in a hug, Sirius laughed giddily.

“Ah, you’re here!”

Harry hugged back just as tight, his legs naturally coming around Sirius’ waist.

She supposed it was instinct.

“Sirius, I missed you.”

Softly, so as not to be heard, Sirius whispered, “I missed you more.”

Sirius pressed a kiss to Harry’s head.

Lydia tried to tiptoe up the stairs and give them time alone, but Sirius stuck out an arm.

“Get over here, little bird.”

She blinked a little at the name, confused enough that Harry was able to stick his hand out too and drag her into the hug by her sleeve.

Her face crashed into Sirius’ chest, and he hugged her tight.

She was able to whisper, “Two questions. One, why little bird? Two, why am I included in the hug?”

Harry laughed.

“You don't like the hug?”

Sirius started to move his hand so she could leave, but she grabbed it and resettled it around her shoulders.

“Shut up, it’s fine.”

Sirius squeezed her tighter and said, “Little bird because you can talk to birds - yes, I saw you talking to that robin yesterday. And also because like a bird, nothing can stop you. If a bird finds itself ensnared, it finds a way free. You’re much the same.”

She blushed, and buried her head further against Sirius’ ridiculously expensive blouse.

“As for the other,” Sirius continued, “I find I like you more than I expected. You’ve gotten me attached, Lydia, which means you’re my goddaughter now.”

Harry snorted. “I thought there was paperwork to do that.”

Sirius shrugged. “Meh, I’m Sirius Black, I do what I want.”

Both teenagers snorted, and Sirius squeezed them tighter.

“My kids.”

Harry sighed. “Yours.”

Lydia found she didn’t mind it too much.

* * *

Dinner that night didn’t go well.

It’s not that some earth shattering thing happened, but it felt like it.

Partway through the meal, when Ron was on his third helping and most were nearly done with their second, Nicky let out a gasp.

Lydia looked down at him where he sat in a chair next to her. On Nicky’s other side, Ginny frowned at him.

“Alright, Nicky?”

He shook his head and climbed into Lydia’s lap.

She leaned her head down, trying to keep her voice quiet so the others wouldn’t notice. Ginny seemed to be taking her lead, because while she looked worried, she faced her food again, with one eye watching.

“Bubs, what’s wrong?’

He whispers back. “I hurt.”

She really, really hoped it wasn’t what she thought.

“Where, baby?”

He gripped the collar of her shirts.

“Everything. My tummy is hot.”

She looked up and only a few of her friends seemed to be paying attention to them.

She leaned her head back down and asked, “Is that it, or is there more icky?”

He cried a little into her shirt.

“M-make it st-stop.”

“I will, baby, just tell me what else hurts.”

“All my b-bones.”

She didn’t bother shushing him, and when she looked up again Sirius and Mrs. Weasley were watching. The other adults seemed to be more subtle, but they were watching as well.

“What’s wrong dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

Nicky cried harder, saying, “Lydi, my t-tummy!”   


She stood, picking Nicky up with her.

“I’m gonna go take care of this.”

Mrs. Weasley raised her wand.    
“Don't worry, there are spells for stomach aches.”

Lydia turned so she couldn’t cast anything on Nicky.

“No. Those won’t work.”

Mrs. Weasley gave a condescending sort of smile that only served to frustrate Lydia more.

Sirius must have spotted her irritation, because he said, "How do you know? You didn’t grow up around magic.”

She sighed. “Madam Pomfrey tried a few times when I was younger all it’ll do is give a migraine and make the pain even out. Evening it out sounds good, but it means  _ everything _ hurts versus just a few areas.”

She walked away, and Nicky sobbed with each step.

Managing to get to a nearby sofa, Lydia carefully set her brother down.

“L-Lydia-!”

“I know, baby, I know. You’re okay.”

He shook his head, tears running all over. “I’m n-not.”

She glanced behind her when she heard steps.

Hermione, Harry, Sirius, Ginny, and the twins had followed.

She didn’t bother greeting them, turning back to Nicky.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you.”

From the kitchen, she heard Moody say, “I ain’t going in there, and wasting this food. You heard the girl, she’s got the kid!”

The worst part was she couldn’t do anything. The McBrien Gene, as she called it, was something you just sat through until it was bearable again.

Nicky reached up to clutch at her shirt when she pulled a soft blanket over him.

“I d-don’t w-wanna die!”   
She felt tears in the corner of her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. Pressing her forehead to Nicky’s, she said, “I won’t let you, hear? You’re not allowed to die until I say.”

He cried hard, nearly tearing her shirt with the force of his hands.

She stayed there until his grip slackened, and she sat up.

Her hand went to brace her back where it ached, and then she felt two pairs of hands gently guide her into their laps.

She shakily exhaled, and put her head in her hands.

Ginny, who had stood nearby, knelt beside Lydia and moved her hands enough to wipe the tears that had found their way to Lydia’s chin. 

“It’s alright, you did good.”

Hermione suddenly made her presence known.

“What on  _ earth _ was that?!”

Lydia sighed and looked over at her. “The McBrien Gene. I’ve got it, and apparently so’s he.”

George bit his lip. “Poor kid.”

Hermione seemed incredulous. “You feel like  _ that? _ ”

Lydia went to reply, but Ginny did it for her.

“Yes, she does. You’ve roomed with her for four years and never thought to ask?”

Hermione looked ashamed. “I never thought she was serious. I assumed she was faking.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Most of the time I feel like that. On the worst days I go to Madam Pomfrey, and she monitors me to make sure it’s nothing worse. If I could go to lessons on those days I would.”

Fred added, “Most times she tries to, even knowing she shouldn’t. One of her friends usually has to carry her.”

Hermione’s eyes nearly bugged from her head.

“You can feel  _ worse _ than that? But he was nearly screaming, how do you function?”

Lydia grinned a little. “Carefully.”

Spotting Harry asleep and curled into Crsipo’s side, she whistled.

The dog perked its ears. 

“Hey, Crsipo, we’re okay now. So don’t worry.”

The dog chuffed, then settled his head onto Harry’s side and faked sleeping. Looking back at her pointedly, he chuffed again.

She chuckled. 

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

George guided her head to rest on his chest, and moments after she was asleep.

For three days, the air of Grimmauld Place felt very strained. That’s not to say it usually felt comfortable, because the air of the house seemed tense constantly. But it was worse in the days following Nicky’s first pain spell.

Things came to a head three days after that night, at dinner. Most of the members hadn’t stayed that night, so it was only the Weasleys, Sirius, Harry, Hermione, and the McBriens.

Lydia cleared her throat. “Uh, I’m sorry if anyone was offended the other night when I didn’t let you help. I just knew what Nicky was going through and didn’t want to make it worse.”

Bill, who had not been there but heard his mum’s worries since, spoke. 

“Lydia, it’s not that anyone’s upset you took charge. In fact, I think it was rather mature of you. They were just shocked. It’s not everyday you see a, what, five year old screaming and begging not to die.”

Lydia nodded, willing to let it rest, but the adults didn’t seem to want to.

Mrs. Weasley asked, “Why didn’t you ever say it felt that bad?”

“What do you mean, Mrs. Weasley? I told you all my symptoms.”

Mr. Weasley sighed. “It’s very different hearing your stomach hurt and seeing it.”

Lydia frowned, and it only deepened when Bill said, “They assumed you were exaggerating.”

Lydia sat back as though she had been punched.

“You didn’t believe me?”

Remus added, “You must understand, Lydia. The amount of symptoms and the intensity you described is unheard of. Children simply never feel that way.”

She turned to him with a hurt expression.

“Fred and George believe me. Ginny believes me. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick believe me. It isn’t that hard to believe someone is in pain.”

Looking around, she sighed.

“Are you full, Nicky?”

Her brother shook her head and she grabbed his plate.

“Come on, let’s eat in our room.”

Nicky scrambled out of his chair and grabbed her hand, skipping after as she took long strides to leave.

Mrs. Weasley called after her, but Sirius spoke over her.

“Give her time, Molly.”

Was it slightly petty of Lydia to not let that dinner go? perhaps. In Ginny’s opinion, no. And she told Lydia as much while they waited for Harry to return from his trial. 

They were holed up in the room Ginny shared with Hermione, Lydia getting her hair plaited by Ginny.

“I know you feel bad, but Mum and the rest kinda deserved that. It’s my opinion that every adult needs a good dressing down by a kid every so often. Keeps ‘em humble, you know?”

Lydia hummed.

“Exactly. Besides, them not believing you is ridiculous. But hey, bright side! Hermione probably believes you more now, so McGonagall won’t get anonymous tattles that you’re skipping.”

Lydia laughed. 

“Yeah, ‘spose so. But still, I feel bad for giving your mum the cold shoulder. She didn’t believe me for years, yes, and it broke my heart, also yes, but she takes me in every summer.”

Ginny turned Lydia’s head so they were looking at each other.

“Lydia. Just because someone is kind to you, it doesn’t give them the right to discredit you and your feelings. Your pain is valid, and real.”

Lydia smiled and batted Ginny’s hand off her face so she could hide her blush.

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

Ginny went to flick her wand at the old record player Tonks had found for them, but Lydia stopped her.

“Ginny, no magic rule.”

“Ugh, but the Ministry won’t even detect it behind all these wards!”   
“ _ No. _ Do you want your mum to put us on cleaning duty and make us late to see Harry when he gets back? We’re lucky she isn’t making us now.”

Ginny snorted. “She’s trying to get back on your good side.”

“Yeah, so’s Sirius. He’s been telling Nicky Marauder stories all day.”

“He does know making him a trouble maker won’t help, right?”

Lydia laughed. “Nicky’s been doomed from the start, with your brothers.”

Ginny grinned so hard Lydia could practically feel it.

Ginny was just tying the plait off when they heard the portrait of Walburga Black start yelling, and they both shot up.

“Harry’s back!”   
Ginny quickly finished tying the plait, and they sprinted down the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley didn’t enjoy the conga line that Lydia, Ginny, Ron, Nicky, Sirius, and the twins formed for Harry - or maybe it was the chanting. Either way, she didn’t enjoy it as much as Harry did.

Shame, it was very fun.

* * *

The thing Lydia’s come to enjoy most about staying at Grimmauld Place is the conversations she and Sirius have. For some reason he’s taken a liking to her, and Lydia to him. Sometimes they’ll talk about their plan with Ardrig, but most of the time it’s about far less serious things. She especially likes when he tells her about the Marauders, because she gets to know something the twins don’t. 

It’s when they’re having one of these conversations that one of Lydia’s worse pain spells of the summer hits her.

They had been talking about defensive spells.

“I like the way you use common spells in defense, I really do. Back when I fought in the last war, I used to use the jinx,  _ Ducklifors _ , and turn Death Eaters into - uh, are you alright?”

From where she had crouched over her knees when the pain sparked in her ribs, Lydia stuck a shaking hand out with her thumb up.

“Yeah, no, I’m not accepting that.”

She took a few deep breaths, exhaling the final one in a sigh. Then, she sat up and gave him a strained sort of grin.

“Sorry about that. Where were you?”

He blinked at her like she was an idiot for a moment, then asked, “What the hell was that?”

She waved him off. “Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just the beginning of a pain spell.”

He frowned, and instead of dismissing it like she assumed he would, he knelt in front of her.

Gesturing for her to lift her chin and meet his eyes, he peered into them.

“Your eyes are more dilated than they should be with the light in here. Is this normal?”

“Eh, it depends. Not every pain spell is the same.”

He took her hand and watched it shake for a minute. Then, “What does Madam Pomfrey do when you get like this?’

“I dunno. She plays solitaire to distract me, or sends me to sleep, or gives me a potion sometimes.” She shook her head, ignoring the fact that her vision blurred. “It’ll go away. Our conversation..?”

He sighed, and felt her forehead. “Our conversation can wait. You’ve got a fever and need to rest. Plus, you look like you’re going to faint.”

“No, I don’t want to. I’m fine.”

He stood up and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Do you need help getting to your bed?”

Realizing that, holy shit, he’s really not letting this go, Lydia stands up.

“I can walk on my own -”

She had collapsed. 

straining her neck to look at him, she groaned.

“You’re not letting this go, ever. Are you?”

“Yeah, no.”

He stared at her for a few awkward moments, and just when Lydia was thinking about struggling to her feet, he waved his wand at the book she had been reading. It transfigured itself into a small mattress, and he set it just beside her.

“Alright, put your arm around my neck.

She did so, blushing, and he lifted her onto the mattress.

As he draped a blanket over her, she told him, “Just so you know, I’m only listening because I don’t have a choice. Don’t get used to this easy stuff.”

“I won’t.”

“You better not! Ask the twins, I’m difficult.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, okay. Now make some room for Crispo.”

She did so, grumbling quietly, and when his dog form settled against her side, she wrapped an am around his neck and buried her face in her fur.

It was just a few minutes later that she was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya Loves. I don't really have any notes?? Uh, yeah. Enjoy. Oh and check out my tumblr, where I rant about this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wizardrywilting
> 
> words: 3943
> 
> Next Week: Lydia's summer comes to an end with a meeting to Ardrig at Gringotts, where she learns goblins are easier to talk with than people. (Bill thinks she's a little insane.)


	3. A Little Birdie Told Me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: grief, mentions of d*ath

It’s honestly sad that Beverly had only just met the people she’d been leaving her daughter with for four years. She knows, she truly does, that she’s not what one would call an attentive mother. In fact, she’s sure that were it not for her father, Lydia would have seriously gotten hurt or kidnapped years ago.

Beverly was never around, always working. Granted, she had to work - they were poor, it was a fact. But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t pick up more shifts than essential, just so she didn’t have to process her feelings.

Because she had a lot of feelings she’d rather repress. She felt guilt for putting her daughter in the McBrien family, regret for even marrying Samuel McBrien, for dragging her parents into the mess that was the Company, she even felt jealous of her daughter, because the girl had always been so much more put together and brave than Beverly could hope to be. More recently, she felt an unfair rage towards the toddler product of her husband’s affair. It was just easier to avoid both the child who caused it, and the one she’d already doomed to a life of pain.

So yes, Beverly knows she’s not a good mother. 

She thinks over all this as she’s introduced to a Molly and Arthur Weasley, as well as each of their children, by Lydia. She thinks of this when one of the twin redheads (She thinks their names are Jeffrey and Frank, but she’s not sure.) makes some sort of joke to Lydia about punching a ferret and Lydia laughs, but why is hurting an animal funny? She thinks of this when the boy with glasses she’d met years before wrestles with Lydia and isn’t pummelled like Lydia can do, but is instead only roughed up a little. She thinks about all she doesn’t know about her own daughter when the affair child tugs Lydia’s sleeve and is immediately picked up and played with, in a way that speaks of closeness and fondness, something Lydia never used to have.

But she thinks about it the most when she’ sled around Diagon Alley and Lydia begins to make up a lie.

That’s something Beverly has always been able to spot, is Lydia’s lies.

She’s lying to a girl, maybe her name is Holly, when she asks why Lydia is going towards a big building with marble stone and odd looking creatures with spears.

“Mom and I are just going to talk with the goblins about my future finances. Aren’t we?”

She looks up at Beverly with a pleading look she hasn’t seen in years. Though, has she actually even looked at Lydia in years? 

“Yes,” Beverly lies, quickly and without looking at the nosy girl, “I’m curious about the money here and who better than from the ogres?”

“Goblins, Mom.”

“Them, yes, right.”

Sporting a small smile that she didn’t bother hiding, Lydia gestured or Beverly to follow.

Just before they ascended the marble steps, Lydia held out a hand to stop Beverly.

“Mom, you’ll be able to come in since I’m still a minor, but don’t speak unless spoken to. There is a very specific etiquette when dealing with goblins, and dire consequences. They essentially keep the magical world running, so we cannot screw up.”

Feeling very intimidated, by her fifteen year old daughter no less, Beverly nodded and they kept walking.

When they passed the goblins with spears, Lydia gave a smile and slight bow. Beverly copied her, feeling silly but terrified of the goblin creatures.

Lydia led her to a counter with several of these goblins behind it, and they stood in line for a few minutes.

Just when Beverly felt the need to twitch, a goblin looked up from its (their? his?) writing.

“Business and names?”

Lydia nodded her head down in a small bow, then looked directly at the goblin.

“My name is Lydia Beth McBrien, I have a meeting with Sir Ardrig.”

The goblin spared a glance at Beverly.

“And this is?”

“This is my guardian, Beverly Mel McBrien. She’s a Muggle, but I’m still under the age to legally come here on my own, according to Ministry rules.”

The goblin scoffed, and snapped its fingers.

A skinnier goblin came running over.

“Larnok will escort you to Manager Ardrig’s office. Behave accordingly.”

Instead of glaring like Lydia would have usually (or did her daughter not do that anymore? Beverly had no clue.) she simply smiled at him and followed after Larnok.

They spent several dizzy minutes following the skinny but surprisingly fast goblin, before they finally stopped and touched an ugly gnarled hand to a tall door.

from inside, a voice told them to come in, and Larnok left with a scary grin.

Lydia walked right in like she’d been here a million times (Perhaps she had, Beverly didn’t know.) and bowed to the goblin, who had stayed sitting when they arrived. Beverly awkwardly copied her.

The goblin stood, bowing in return.

“Sit. We have much to discuss, Miss McBrien. This is your guardian I presume?”

“Yes, Sir Ardrig. My mother, Beverly McBrien. Mom, this is Sir Ardrig.”

Beverly gave an awkward wave.

The goblin asked, “She won’t be a threat to security, will she?”

Lydia shook her head.

“No, she won’t. Right?”

Beverly doesn't think she had a choice other than agreeing, so she did.

That seemed to be enough for Sir Ardrig, because he simply clasped his gnarled hands in front of him and directed his attention to Lydia. It was clear neither would be paying Beverly much mind, but she preferred it that way.

“Miss McBrien, have you and Lord Black given more thought to my suggestion?”

“Yes, Sir. Lord Black agrees with our second option, being the glamor and identity. Preferably made by Gringotts, as we both know goblin magic is far superior compared to what myself or Lord Black could conjure.”

Sir Ardrig grinned. “Miss McBrien, flattery doesn’t melt into gold.”

Lydia seems to understand something Bverly didn’t, because she laughed and replied, “No, but it _does_ get a person places. But that wasn’t simple flattery, Sir, that was honesty.”

Sir Ardrig smiled, and it wasn’t as terrifying as before, but it definitely wasn’t normal.

“While it is very true human magic does not compare to ours, I hear from Filius that you are quite impressive, Miss McBrien.”

She blushes, and swiftly changes the subject.

“Thank you, Sir Ardrig. As for Lord Black, he agrees we’d like to hire the goblin nation to do it, and until such a time as he can be here himself, I am to be the go between. Messenger, if you will.”

Sir Ardrig clasped his hands again, resting his chin on them.

“I wonder, could I propose a solution?”

“Of course.”

He tapped one of his fingers against the other in thought, then said, “Have you heard of mirrors that are enchanted for communication, Miss McBrien?”

“Yes, Sir. Lord Black tells me he used one with the late Lord Potter.”

The goblin nodded. “Yes, wizards have their own versions. Imagine what Lord Black described, but objects can be passed through as well. Small objects, such as parchment.”

Lydia’s eyes lit up. When had they started doing that?

“That sounds incredible, Sir! God, the amount of charms that would be needed -” Cutting herself off, she chuckled. “Sorry, I lost track of myself.”

Sir Ardrig looked almost...fond?

“You are forgiven. Filius tells us often of your talent for charms, it was to be expected. Now, for 10 Galleons a month, I would be willing to loan yourself and Lord Black a mirror, connected to mine. This way we may hold meetings while you are at school, and while he is hidden. Your thoughts?”

She smiled slightly.

“I’ll have to see if I can speak with Lord Black before returning to school, but I think he’ll be happy with this. Is there anything I can do right now to help get things started?”

Sir Ardrig nodded. “Explain to me in full detail what Lord Black requests.”

“Lord Black agrees the legal name change and forged documents to be Simon Potter-Zimmer is in his best interest. He will undergo a glamor as soon as it is finalized and he hopes you or a goblin you trust would be willing to do the glamor as we, being myself and Lord Black, know the goblin nation have different powers than ourselves. We believe your glamor would be more powerful and are willing to cover the cost. 

As for the custody matter, Lord Black wants custody of Harry James Potter as soon as possible. At the latest he would like this July, of the year 1996. He does not need access to the Potter family vaults, and will be using the Black fortune to care for Heir Potter. 

I believe that is all, sir Ardrig.”

Ardrig nodded, clasping his hands in thought. “This will not be an easy process. I believe the mirrors will be necessary. I understand Lord Black is unable to leave the active property of 12 Grimmauld Place?”

“Yes, sir. If possible I’d like to keep those within the walls of 12 Grimmauld Place unaware of any meeting you may have with Lord Black, most especially Albus Dumbledore.”

The goblin gave a smirk. 

“I notice you didn’t include Lord Black in that last sentence.”

“Lord Black...trusts Dumbledore, whereas I wouldn’t trust him to feed his own bird. I would rather the headmaster be unaware of both the name change and custody battle until it is finalized. I have a feeling he doesn’t want things to change, if you understand my meaning?”

Ardrig nodded, and he was smiling cruelly. 

“Of course, Miss McBrien. I will send you with those mirrors and take the gold from Lord Black’s vault, if he decides he doesn’t want them, we will reverse the transaction. I will need Lord Black in person to forge the documents, as I need a drop of his blood. In order to get him here, that may be trickier.”

“If I may suggest something?”

He waved a gnarly hand. 

“If I created a golem of Lord Black, would Alastor Moody see through it with his eye?”

The goblin smirked.

“That eye would not see any difference. Are you suggesting a golem be made while Lord Black comes to the bank?”

“I am, sir. Do you believe it possible?”

“Such a witch as yourself could accomplish it. Shall we set a meeting for the 13th of October? Your guardian could draw you from the school for a few hours as you would be sixteen. Many Muggleborn, do such.”

Lydia’s eyes lit up.

“Absolutely brilliant, sir Ardrig! I will inform Lord Black upon return to 12 Grimmauld Place. What time is preferable for the meeting?” 

“9 o’clock, you can’t be away from school long. We may discuss payment for the glamor when the time comes , and I shall do it. 

As for the custody matter, I will have it done by May of 1996, and Dumbledore shall never know until Heir Potter doesn’t renew the blood wards. As such, they are very weak and barely holding up.”

“Are you saying Dumbledore is putting Heir Potter’s safety at risk because he believes in the power of love?”

“I am, Miss McBrienn. I will also admit I enjoy that malevolent gleam in your eye.”

“I’m enjoying the visage of strangling the old man with his own beard. Is there anything else, sir Ardrig?”

“For Lord Black, no. For you...I may be able to do something.”

“Me, sir? I don’t have any gold.”

“I assume you know William Weasley, through those twins?” 

“Yes, I do. But sir-”

“William Weasley has begun working for us recently. He is most efficient, but he doesn’t look at the things someone of your...mindset does. I would be willing to help you with your finances, for free during your tenure, if you agreed to work here during your holidays.”

She couldn’t hold in a pleased gasp. “Sir Ardrig, That is such an offer! But I know nothing of gold, or what the goblins really do here.”

“The fact you assume we do more than hoard money proves you are not like other wizards, Miss McBrien. What you would do for the goblin nation, is simple. We need a mind like yours. Someone against the wizards, but who thinks like them. Who knows them intimately. What say you to my proposal?”

“If I am alive this time next year, and not on the run, then I will accept. As is, I return to school too soon to be of any real help.”

Ardrig shook her hand, something that looked to surprise Lydia.

“It is a deal. I look forward to working with you, Miss McBrien. Good day.”

No, Beverly thinks later as she drops Lydia back with the Weasleys, she doesn’t know her daughter at all. 

The girl runs to the twins, jumps into their arms, and lets them swing her around. She doesn’t punch the oldest, Will, when he ruffles her hair, and she doesn’t brandish her knife when the redheaded girl, Ginger, surprises her by jumping on Lydia’s back. She simply laughs at all of this, even looking genuinely interested when the affair child shows her a lolly he’d gotten and looking utterly fascinated.

When did her daughter’s face go from frightened and confused and chubby to determined and guarded and thin with happy lines around her eyes?

* * *

The last night spent in Grimmauld Place before returning to school tomorrow was the most relaxing all summer.

The adults were sitting around the fire in the ridiculously posh furniture, talking about adult things, while the kids milled about on the floor, entertaining themselves.

Lydia had zoned out of the conversation and Gobstone game ages ago, caught up in a new charms book Professor Flitwick had sent her.

Ginny was doodling with glitter pens on Bill’s arms, the twins were whispering to themselves, Harry and Ron were playing Gobstones, and Hermione was half reading and half telling Ron about whatever she was reading.

Nicky suddenly came to sit at Lydia’s side, and began insistently poking her side.

“Lydi, Lydi, Lydi, Lydi-”

She grabbed his finger and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Bubs?”

“Hi.”

She laughed. 

“What is it, baby?”

He wrings his hands together, and she has to stomp down the desire to make him stop.

“Will you tell a story? Like at Daddy’s?”

She smiled at him, and setting her book aside, asked, “Which one?”

He tapped his bare feet against the carpet as he thought, and then decided, “The one about the girl who ran away from home because of the monsters in her head!”  
Ginny paused her doodling of what looked like a dragon, and hummed.

“Ooh, sounds interesting! Tell us the story!”  
Lydia looks away from Nicky to see that the twins have completely abandoned their game, sitting on their stomachs and looks up at her expectantly.

“Oh, alright,” she sighed. “Get comfy, y’all.”

Nicky crawled into her lap, pillowing his head on her chest, and the twins did the same on her legs. Ginny simply curled herself into Bill’s side, and he actually stopped his conversation with Remus to listen.

“ _There was once a girl. She came from a busy city called Boiswood_.”

Fred let out an immature laugh, and Hermione smacked his head.

“We get it, it’s an innuendo!”

Lydia snorted. “That’s a real city you know. Not a dirty joke.” 

Nicky tapped her. “Story!”

She giggled. “Right. 

_This girl, from a busy city named Boiswood, lives with her two parents. She had never been rich, but she was well off. She had her own room, a large closet, anything she liked she got._ ”

“Even a pony?” Ginny asked. 

Lydia nodded. “Even a pony. 

_But the girl didn’t care for the things she had. All she cared about was that her parents were always working. She wanted a family to always be there. To laugh with. To eat with. She had always wondered what it was like to live in a small town._ ”

“She never saw her parents?” Hermione, who had at some point moved closer, whispered sadly. 

Lydia nodded. 

_“_ Her parents were there, but she was always asleep by the time they got home. Her mother was at home most days, but she worked. She had an at home office. So, our character was left to entertain herself. 

_She thought the small town life would be lovely. You wouldn’t hear anything at night but crickets. You could see the stars. There would be nowhere to rush off to, and you would eat dinner as a family. She wished for it every single night. One day, just after her nineteenth birthday, her wish came true.”_

Hermione raised her hand. “Sorry, why doesn’t she have a name?”

Ron groaned. “It’s a story, Hermione! She hasn’t got to have a name.”

Lydia smirked slightly. “She doesn’t have a name because I made the story up a year ago and couldn’t be bothered. Nicky, would you like to name her?”

Nicky nodded, and tilted his head for several moments. “My mama’s name starts with an S, so let’s call her Sandy.”

Lydia nodded at him. “Sandy it is. 

_Sandy’s lifelong wish came true just after she had turned nineteen. She moved out of her Boiswood home and to a little town called Pink Gem. This town was small. Very small. It only had one restaurant, two stores, and less than one thousand people. She met a man shortly after she had moved into an apartment complex there. His name is not important, because he isn’t in the story long._ ”

She paused for a moment as Mister Weasley offered her a glass of water. At this point, most of the room was listening attentively, even Sirius who never paid much attention to anything. 

“ _Sandy and the man felt a connection almost immediately. She brought him back to her childhood home to meet her parents after only a few weeks of dating. Her father did not like the boy, but her mother cared only for Sandy’s happiness and gave her blessing._

_It was only a year after she and the man had married that they fell pregnant with a child. This child they named Ruth. Ruth had a happy childhood with her parents. But one day, Sandy learned something.”_

Nicky smiles at his sister. “This is my favorite part!”

She smiled down at him with a soft look in her eye. “Mine too. 

_Sandy realized one late night that she didn’t enjoy the small town as much as she thought. She loved her daughter Ruth, though, so she woke her husband. She told him she needed change. She wanted to leave. He...wanted to stay. ‘My family has lived here for centuries’ He told her. She told him she was sorry but that she would leave._

_While upset to see her go, he accepted it, and she packed her things that night. She and Ruth travelled across the sea, looking for something to thrill them both._

_They found it._ ”

Lydia paused, taking a long sip of her water. 

After a few seconds, George exclaims, “Hurry! I need to know what’s enough to thrill Sandy!”

Lydia giggled, getting a shove in response. “Okay okay. 

_Sandy and Ruth had been for a stroll one morning when Ruth pointed to a cafe. Right next to it, was an empty building. Sandy was struck with an idea._

_She would fix the abandoned place up, and fill it with books she had found as she travelled._ ”

“Where all did she travel?” Remus asked suddenly, looking as enthralled as the twins. 

Lydia hummed for a moment before saying, “As she grew up she went on vacation, but after she left America she went to Spain, France, and Scandinavia. 

_She had collected enough to build her very own library. She employed enough bookworms to keep it open twenty four hours, and she allowed food from the cafe next door to be brought in._

_Ruth grew up alongside books, and became quite the genius. Sandy was happy with her life, and everything was happy ever after._ The end.”

Ginny pouted. “What happened to Ruth’s dad? Does he get married, does she have siblings? Ooh, does _Ruth_ get married? Can she have a girlfriend?”

Lydia laughed, putting a hand over Ginny’s mouth.

“Gin, this is simply a bedtime story.”

“Answer the questions!” Fred yelled. 

Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Ruth’s father remarried, he has no more kids. Ruth does get married to a lovely girl named Moona.”

They all sighed in relief, and Hermione asked, “How did you come up with such a story on your own?”

Nicky spoke for her. “Lydia’s really good at making stories! She tells me bedtime ones every night. One time-” 

“Speaking of bedtime,” Lydia said, “It’s past yours, Nicky. Come on, you know you’re tired.”

“But-!”

“No, I need you to get used to sleeping without me. C’mon, I’ll tell you a story tomorrow morning if you’re up early enough.”

Nicky gave a long suffering sigh, but whooped with joy when the twins hoisted him up by the arms and swung him around. 

Lydia watched nervously, but relaxed as Arthur said, “Don’t worry, Lydia. They’ve been doing that to Ginny and Ron for years. Never once dropped them.”

Lydia smiled at the man. 

“That helps, thank you Mister Weasley. Would you mind staying until my mom takes him home to leave tomorrow? I wanna make sure he’s okay.”

Arthur patted her arm. 

“Of course. You’re quite the sister, by the way.” 

Molly called, “Bed, everyone! Bright and early tomorrow!”

Nicky went to bed easily after that. 

Just before he finally fell asleep, however, he rolled over on his bed and asked her, “Can you imagine if someone wrote a story about us?”

Lydia chuckled, ignoring Hermione’s shushing.

“Why would they? We’re not very interesting.”

* * *

Lydia had really missed Neville this summer. They hadn’t written much, on account of their lives both being insanely boring.

But when she found the compartment with him and Luna sitting in it, trying to get Trevor off the window, she couldn’t help her excitement.

“Nev!”

He looked away and gave her a hug, squeezing her so tight she thought her ribs might break.

When she pulled away, she giggled.

Trevor was on Neville’s head.

Carefully scooping him into her hands, she handed the toad off to Neville.

“Good summer?”

He shrugged. “Boring, save the weekend Luna and I went running around her village.”

Luna waved absently, already attached to Ginny’s side, her paint supplies out and a brush nearing Ginny’s face.

They all sat down to do their own things separately. Neville was whispering to a cactus as if it were a puppy, Luna was painting polka dots on Ginny’s face, Ginny was talking about Dean Thomas, and Lydia was reading as she always did.

It was around an hour into Ginny talking about Dean Thomas’ looks that Lydia heaved a silent sigh and nudged her head onto Neville’s shoulder.

The arm around her shoulders was natural, like a puzzle piece.

“Alright?”

“All summer,” she whispered, “all summer, Dean Thomas is all she’s talked about if I don’t distract her. Oh Lydia, I bet Dean Thomas is so romantic! Oh, he’s so fit! Oh, do you think he’d draw me? I am exhausted and kind of hate Dean, Neville.”

Neville snorted a little.

“So is she in her boy crazy phase adults talk about?”

Lydia groaned quietly. 

“I love her, I do. But I _will not survive_. Tell me I wasn’t this bad.”

“Did you even have that phase?”

“I had a knife phase.”

“No, that’s still going on.”

She grinned to herself, then asked, “So do boys have girl crazy phases?”

Neville paused for a suspiciously long time, then whispered, “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

Arriving at school is the same as every other year, and she watches the children get sorted from her place between the twins and across from Neville and Luna.

Half listening to the new defense teacher, and half staring at Cedric’s old spot, she barely feels it when Katie grabs her by the arm and steers her into her dorm.

She's not sure how she got to sleep, because all she can think of is that there had been a new Hufflepuff in Cedric’s seat.

The month goes on in a boring fashion, never changing for Lydia.

She goes to lessons, keeps her head down especially in Umbridge’s presence, lets Katie pile food on her plate, attends study sessions, and tries not to cry when she accidentally stumbles into the places Cedric most frequented.

The only time this changes is when, after a particularly dull charms lesson (It’s not an insult, she just finds the packing charm stupid.), Professor Flitwick asks to speak with her alone.

She waves off Harry and Neville, and glares at Hermione until she stops looking so concerned and finally leaves.

She doesn’t even finish packing her things before she can feel Professor Flitwick’s presence beside her.

“Professor-”

“Just a moment, Lydia. We’re waiting for our guest.”

She sits on top of her desk, smiling slightly at Professor Flitwick’s admonishing stare.

When Madam Pomfrey walks in, looking just as worried as Professor Flitwick does Lydia stands.

“What, is this some kind of intervention from my Hogwarts parents?”

Madam Pomfrey blinks for a minute at the term, but Professor Flitwick doesn’t have her problem.

He simply smiles at her and says, “Oh my dear, we care for you very much! This is absolutely an intervention.”

Lydia groans, hopping back onto the desk.

“Great.”

Lydia knows she’s not functioning the way she should be. She knows that very well, so don’t think she does;t. She just doesn’t know how to fix it. Coping skills was never on her list of things to learn. Quantum physics? Definitely. Coping skills? No, why would she ever need those?

“I’m eating.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded, reaching her hands out, palms up. An offering, not a demand.

“You are, and we’re so proud, sweet. But just because you’re not destroying your body, doesn’t mean you’re taking care of yourself.”

Lydia was confused. 

She was doing what she was supposed to! She was eating right, and getting adequate sleep, and drinking water. She was going to the lessons she could. What was wrong?

Professor Flitwick sighed.

“You are taking care of yourself physically, but not mentally. Do you understand?”

Lydia shook her head very slowly. 

“I don’t understand. I thought I was doing everything right.”

They looked almost pained. She didn’t like it.

“What am I doing wrong? I’m not trying to, honest.”

Madam Pomfrey lifted one hand, the other still outstretched. The hand not lying on the desk reached to caress Lydia’s cheek.

“Sweet, you’re not doing anything wrong, you just don’t know how to do this. That’s okay. We’ll help.”

Lydia frowned at them.

“What do I do?”

Professor Flitwick smiled at her.

“Ask us for help. That’s the first step. We can’t help if you’re not ready.”

Lydia thought it sounded a little stupid. Why did she have to ask? Couldn’t they just do whatever needed to be done?

 _Oh,_ she realized, _they’re giving me a choice._

Lydia reached out and clasped Madam Pomfrey’s hand.

“Please, help.”

* * *

Lydia hates Umbridge about as much as any other student. Lucky for her, she’s good at staying under the radars of those she needs to. Is it hard, being associated with the Weasleys and thus Harry? God, yes. But is it possible? Yes.

Still, she loathes the woman. She’s had a hand in planning quite a few of the pranks Fred and George have played on her. (She’s also had a hand in convincing them not to prank Mrs. Norris. She still likes the cat, despite not playing with her as much as they used to.)

The point is, she’s brainstorming ways to get out of a detention for skipping Umbridge’s lesson to go to the infirmary with Natalie when Ginny burts in.

“Miss Weasley! When did it become acceptable to come sprinting into my hospital wing? Never, I’ll tell you! Ener properly.”

Groaning, Ginny walked out through the door and back in, much calmer.

“That’s how we do it, thank you. Now, are you injured?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “You’re lucky there’s a free space by Miss McBrien’s bed, after that behavior. Go on.”

Natalie giggles from her seat next to Lydia’s bedside when Ginny parts the curtain and throws up two peace signs in greeting.

“Lydia, Natti! Have I got news for you!”

Lydia gingerly sits up, not even complaining when the girls help her.

“Am I going to stress about this? because Madam Pomfrey says no.”

Ginny snorts, plopping herself down at Lydia’s feet.

“No, well, you shouldn’t. So there’s this thing called the DA…”

It takes twenty minutes, but soon Ginny’s outlined a secret club all for defence, and in rebellion against Umbrudge.

Lydia can’t help her grin.

“I’m in, when is it?”

Ginny shrugs.

“Not sure yet. The meeting was in Hogsmeade, and I ran all the way here. Hermione said she’ll get the information around when they know a place. Oh, isn’t this brilliant?!”

Lydia has to agree it sounds fun. And it would just be a bonus, since she was already planning to start her physical training up again at school.

Yes, this would be good.

The first real meeting is a bit boring, Lydia thinks.

She had gone, very excited, noly for Harry to call her to the front.

“Hey, listen up! If you don’t know her, this is my friend, Lydia! Say hi, Lydia.”

She raises an eyebrow at him and then waves at the crowd.

“Hey.”

Harry continues, draping an elbow on her shoulder, “Lydia here is a brilliant duelist. In fact, I say she and I go up against each other so you lot can see a duel. How’s that sound?”

She gives him a panicked look as everyone heers.

“You idiot, why didn’t you ask?”

“Well, I figured you’d refuse.”

“Yeah, I would have!”  
His grin softens a little as he leans in to whisper, “Hey, you’re not gonna hurt me, okay? It’s just harmless stuff.”

She glares at him, and louder, says, “Fine, you dumbass. Ready your wand. LEE, REFEREE!”

Lee pumps his fist in excitement and rushes to use an amplifying spell on his voice.

She and Harry took ten steps away from each other.

“POTTER AND MCBRIEN TAKE TEN STEPS EACH. THEY READY THEIR WANDS. ON MY COUNT! ONE...TWO...FIRE!”

Turning, Lydia instantly fires off a jet of ice towards one of Harry’s feet. “ _Glacius!_ ” His foot is suddenly encased in a block of ice, and he has to drag it. During his momentary surprise, she calls, “ _Flipendo!_ ”

“MCBRIEN LOCKS POTTER’S FEET IN A BLOCK OF ICE! VERY INVENTIVE, THAT GIRL. HER KNOCKBACK JINX...DOES NOT WORK BECAUSE OF POTTER’S QUICK PROTEGO! NICE THINKING, HARRY!”

Harry looked up with just barely enough tie to yell, “ _Protego! Expe-_ ah hell!”

Before he could cast his charm fully, Lydia had called out, “ _Bombarda!_ ” aiming just off to the side of his iced ankle.

“OH! POTTER NEARLY GOT HER, BUT A BIT OF NAUGHTY SWEARING GOT THE BETTER OF HIM! SHAME, HARRY. LYDIA’S QUICK BOMBARDA, THAT’S AN EXPLODING SPELL BY THE WAY, NEARLY GETS POTTER, BUT IT SEEMS...OH WOW, HAS HE DROPPED HIS WAND?! NO, NO THAT’S MCBRIEN, TURNING IT INTO...WELL NOW FOLKS, I’M NOT SURE WHAT JUST HAPPENED.”

What had just happened was Lydia used _piscifors_ to transfigure Harry’s wand into a fish. An actual, living fish. Well...not really living anymore since it wasn’t in water…

Harry gaped at her, and she grinned.

Lee yelled again, “IS THAT...IS THAT A WIN FOR LYDIA? I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO CALL THIS. FRED, GEORGE? ANGIE?”

Harry started laughing, and walked forward to shake hands with Lydia.

Turning to their audience, he shrugged.

“Alright, that was a friendly duel! I thought Lydia would use more dangerous spells, but don’t think real duels will be any easier. Lydia, tell them why you used a harmless spell at the end there.”

She stomped on his foot in retaliation for the sudden spotlight, then told them, “When in a setting where you're evenly matched, or outmatched, try getting your opponent confused. A confused opponent is a vulnerable opponent, and a vulnerable opponent is a beaten opponent. Using something like piscifors, you can turn your opponent’s wand into a fish. Obviously, unless they’ve got another weapon, it’s easier to finish them off. Um, yeah.”

A few people clapped, most notably the twins, and she flipped them off.

Over the next few weeks, Harry came up to her again and asked to do a few more duels, just them.

Out of the four they did, he only won one, and that was because Ron had tried to distract her with lights from his own wand. She had simply sent a bat bogey hex his way, while dodging Harry’s stupefy.

After the last duel they had, Harry sighed.

“Maybe you could be the DA’s watch dog and alibi? I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can teach you.”

She had laughed.

“Maybe not. But we should still get together and have practice duels. It’ll be for us both to be challenged.”

He had nodded, and high fived her.

“So, watch dog?”

“I’ll be your watch bird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi loves! i wrote most of this chapter without my glasses, because i couldn't find them, so forgive any mistakes! my vision is so bad that when i get it tested, i can't even read the first line on the sheet. yeah... also, apologies for this being a day late, i though i had posted this but later realized it was just sitting in my drafts.  
> anyway, notes:  
> -I really hope y'all enjoyed the bit with the goblins and Lydia, as well as the POV of Lydia's mom (Beverly). she was surprisingly easy to write for, although I hadn't originally planned for it to be her POV.  
> -the part where they show Lydia needs to ASK for help?? fuck, that felt good to write! also, i think a big part behind that scene was Lydia’s inability to see she needed help, and realizing that she can ask, in her way, and people will help.  
> -i really enjoyed writing their little friendly duel for some reason, and i think part of it was thinking of harmless spells she couldn’t use to incapacitate!! was that interesting for y’all?
> 
> this chapter felt really lacking, but i think that’s just me having too high of standards lol. let me know your thoughts!!
> 
> words: 5595 (ope i went over lil)  
> Next Week: Sir Ardrig, Sirius, and Lydia get shit done.


	4. We Should Totally Fake Your Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next three months are filled with chaos, but it’s only going to be getting more chaotic when Sirius suddenly disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick warning, this chapter is double the amount of usual (8k) so if you don’t have time i suggest setting this aside for later :) 
> 
> tw: the faking of a death, talk of a dead relative, mentioned abuse
> 
> lmk if there needs to be other trigger warnings!

Lydia woke extra early on her birthday, only a few days after her and Harry’s most recent mock duel. She was a little disappointed, admittedly, that she wasn’t going to spend the entire day with her friends. The twins in particular seemed put off as they ate breakfast with her that morning.

“Why’s your mum wanting to pull you out  _ today _ of all days?” Fred whined. “Can’t she do it another time?”

George added, “What’s the sudden interest, anyway? She had the past four summers.”

Lydia glared at him.

“Don’t talk about my mom like that, you git.” Sighing, she answered Fred, “She’s doing it today because most Muggleborn parents pull their child out of school on their sixteenth birthday. It’s an important one, for some reason.”

Both twin’s faces looked dubious but neither argued with her. Instead, George asked, “When will you be back? And what are you gonna do?”

Lydia grinned. “I’ll be back by lunch, I’m sure of it. As for what I’m doing...let’s just say it's going to make some adults angry, but Harry will be very happy.”

Fred nudged her foot with his.

“That’s your potting face. Is it time for Georgie and I to bow down and pledge service to our soon to be overlord?”

She laughed as the two went to kneel.

“No, peabrains. Nothing like that, yet. When I declare supreme rule over the world you two will be at my side. We’ll even get a three seater throne.”

George rolled his eyes, then leaned in to whisper, “So are we allowed to know?”

She glanced around and spotted only one professor eating, Vector.

“You can’t tell  _ anybody _ , alright?”

They gave her looks that said,  _ ‘Do you actually think we’d betray you?’ _

“I’m trying to get Sirius custody of Harry.”

They got excited looks on their face, and each grabbed her hand.

“That’s fantastic, Lydia!”

“Yeah, Princess, we’re so proud! But...why can’t anyone know? Why would they be mad?”

She sighed.

“Sometimes, adults like to control things, and there’s certain adults that want control of Harry. If he’s in Sirius’ custody…”

“Sirius would never let anyone control Harry.”

“Exactly. So things are going to be changing, and it’s best these adults don’t know until it can’t be changed.”

Fred squeezed her hand then nodded.

“Okay, we'll try to keep anyone from being suspicious. How much more have you got to get done?”

“I’ve got a meeting this morning with Gringotts and Sirius. We’re going to try and get the situation with Sirius’ identity solved, and then the rest of the school year we’ll have meetings through these mirror things. This meeting is just so the goblins can use Sirius’ blood for a vital part of the plan.”

“And we don’t get to know the plan, do we?”

She sighed. 

“I wanna tell you, I do. But I think this is far, even for you two. I promise, I’ll tell you the truth if you ask later, but I can’t risk this.”

“Why would we be a risk, Princess?”

She smiles at Fred.

“Because, you’re the only ones that can ever talk me out of things. So, if you asked me not to, I would actually listen.”

George and Fred shared a soft look, but before they could say anything else, Professor McGonagall was walking over.

“Miss McBrien, it’s time for your guardian to pick you up for the day. Hagrid will take us to the gates.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Standing and swinging her bag over her shoulder, she smiled at the twins. “See y’all later. Keep an eye on Nat and everyone else.”

Lydia went with her grandfather, rather than her mom, to Gringotts. Sirius was curled up outside the bank as Crispo, so she gently grabbed his fur and led them to the first open teller.

Waiting until they looked up, she gave them a smile.

“Hello, I hope your gold is flowing today. My name is Lydia Beth McBrien, this is my guardian Louie Adam Linden, and this dog here is an animagus whose name I cannot disclose until we get to our meeting with Sir Ardrig.”

The goblin stared at her for a moment before growling, “Identification.”

She pulled her wand from her bag and said, “I have my wand, and my dog companion is willing to give blood for identification if needed.”

Sirius had mentioned he might need to give proof of his existence, although the idea of giving blood like currency made her uncomfortable.

The goblin didn’t reply to her, instead calling, “Ruthark! Take them to Manager Ardrig’s office.”

After many minutes of dizzying turns and steep halls, Ruthark knocked once on a door and they were let into Ardrig’s office.

Lydia bowed, her grandfather following, and Crispo did a doggy bow. It was kind of cute, honestly.

Ardrig stood and bowed as well, then sat.

“You may return to your natural state, Lord Black.”

While Lydia and her grandfather sat, Sirius did so.

He briefly patted Lydia’s shoulder, then sat in his own chair.

“Thank you or meeting with us today, Ardrig.”

Sir Ardrig nodded. 

“Miss McBrien makes quite a persuasive case. You are lucky she is on  _ your  _ side, Lord Black.”

Sirius snorted, but before they could get off track, Lydia interrupted.

“Sirius, did the golem work? I didn’t have much time to test it before sneaking it into Hogsmeade.”

In truth, she’d barely done the research she normally would have when attempting a spell. She’d done it completely unsupervised as well, with only a portrait in an old classroom watching her work.

She hoped it had worked, despite not having been able to test it properly. She’d only had time to make one, and then sneak it into Hogsmeade one night after curfew. She had sent a letter to Sirius just days before, telling him to pick it up in his old cave. She didn’t even wait to see him take it, had just left it there.

He grinned at her.

“It’s currently locked in my room, and blaring Elton John off my record player.”

She blinked a few times, then changed the subject.

“So, Sirius, have you given any thought to your new name and any appearance?”

Sirius fished out a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

It was a list of names.

New Name:

-Sylvester

-Storm

-Stewart

-Stevie 

-Stanley

-Sparrow

-Simon

-Silas

-Sherman

-Scotty

Lydia stared at the list in her hand for a moment before blurting, “Storm? Like, what?”

Her grandfather snorted quietly.

“Don’t tease the man, Lydia. After all, your cat has a similar name.”

She groaned. “I was  _ eight _ when I named him! Let it go!”

Ardrig reached out a hand for the list.

“Yes, no, yes, perhaps, yes, no, perhaps, perhaps, yes, if you must.”

He crossed out a few, then handed it back to Sirius.

“The ones crossed out will not be believable. Keep in mind, your new identity will have been born in 1925, and will need a name fitting that time period.”

Sirius sighed and read from what was left of the list.

“Sylvester, Stewart, Stevie, Stanley, Simon, Silas, Sherman.”

Louie poke up.

“It isn’t my place, but try sounding the names out with your middle, if you’re changing yours.”

Ardrig nodded.

“You should change your middle name. Your supposed mother wouldn’t have named you after a constellation, nor did she know any Orions.”

Lydia tilted her head at Sirius.

“Any ideas?”

He nodded.

“I wanted it to be James.”

Lydia smiled at him sadly, and squeezed his hand.

“I think that sounds really good. But Sherman James sounds kind of silly.”

Chuckling, Sirius crossed it off the list.

“One down.”

Ardrig watched them for a moment, then said, “You humans are fond of your nicknames. Try coming up with a nickname for each.”

Lydia scrunched her nose a bit as she thought, then said, “Sylvie, Stew, Stevie is its own, Si, and Lassy.”

Sirius snorted.

“Yeah, that last one is not allowed. I like...I like Simon and Sylvester.”

Louie frowned at Sirius.

“Mate, I think they both fit.”

Lydia hummed. “Yeah, but Sylvester James flows better. On the other hand, Sylvester sounds a little weird. Especially since he's what, thirty?”

Sirius snorted.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sylvester is too old sounding. Simon it is!”

Ardrig laughed a little.

“Now for appearance. Your glamor will not be changing you drastically, just enough that you will look like a Potter, rather than a Black. That means a slightly softer jawline, tanner skin, brown eyes, messier hair, and you’ll shrink in height. Aise from that, we’ll soften your other features so you look less aristocratic, and more like the son of a Canadian witch completely removed from magical Britain.”

Sirius nodded. 

“Right. So for this whole...death thing. How is that happening?”

Louie gave Lydia a sharp look.

She sighed.

“Grandfather, we’re not actually killing anyone. We’re faking Sirius’ death.”

“You’re faking - good god, Lydia!”

She grinned nervously.

“Um, Sir Ardrig, would you mind explaining it to Sirius?”

Sir Ardrig snorted, then launched into the explanation of how they would be putting a goblin made golem somewhere for Aurors to find, as it would hold up better than an illusion. Once Sirius was declared dead, Sirius’ new identity would make itself known, and he would take custody of Harry. Only a few would know the truth.

When the explanation was finished, Louie looked appeased, although not happy, and Sirius was nodding.

“Brilliant, what else have we got to do?”

Ardrig pulled out a dagger and shallow bowl.

“I will need a few drops of blood for the golem, and then two drops for the necessary paperwork to make your identity real.”

Sirius nodded, took the dagger, and let himself bleed into the bowl.

He stopped bleeding after it was half full, and then Ardrig pushed a few pieces of paper across the desk.

“Take your finger and smudge blood where indicated. This one on your left is a birth certificate. The one on your right is your passport and citizenship papers. Your story is that your mother, Norma Arlene Potter was Henry Potter’s younger sister, born in 1899. She moved to Canada after Henry’s death, and fell in love with a man named Earl Zimmer. They had a son in 1925, named Virgil, who married Rose. You, Simon James Potter-Zimmer, were homeschooled by your parents, and only just heard of your cousin’s passing, your cousin being James Potter. After hearing of his passing, you wanted to take guardianship of his son, who you had never the chance to meet, but grew love for through letters while James was in hiding.”

Sirius blinked a few times then nodded.

“And if anyone asks what Harry is to me..?”

“Technically he is your cousin once removed, I believe, but you may say he is dear to your heart if you wish to redirect the conversation. Humans are sappy.”

Lydia snorted.

Louie rolled his eyes at her.

Sirius nodded.

“Right, okay. Anything else?”

Ardrig shook his head.

“No, you may leave. I will contact you on the mirrors in November, shall we say the tenth? Make time in your schedules. Until then, keep living as though nothing has changed. You did not leave the property you reside in today, and you will continue not to. Do not tell anyone anything, unless completely necessary. There will be a time for confessions, it is not yet.”

Lydia smiled.

“Thank you for this, Sir Ardrig. We’ll talk to you next month.”

He nodded back at her.

“We shall. Happy birthday, Miss McBrien.”

Lydia smiled a little brighter.

“Thanks.”

Before she could tell him to transform back to his animagus form, Sirius pulled her in for a hug.

“Thank you for this, Lydia. Really. And happy birthday. I’ve sent your present, so it should arrive by time you return to school.”

She grinned and hugged him back.

So this birthday hadn’t been a waste, after all.

* * *

Lydia had been looking for a permanent place to keep up with her training, and the Room of Requirement seemed to be that. The thing was, she didn’t actually want to use the room. There was nothing wrong with the room, in fact, it was perfect. 

The real problem was Lydia. She didn’t want to train, because that would be proving her father right, wouldn’t it? He had told her the violence was in her DNA, that she would always be a weapon before a person. So if she trained those fighting instincts, even if it was to protect, he would be right. She would be a weapon again. 

Lydia had worked so hard to suppress those instincts, to never hurt again. But if it was in her DNA, should she just accept it?

She didn’t want to, that was for sure. But she also knew she’d need those same instincts to protect her friends. Could she really live with herself if they were hurt because she was scared to throw a punch? No. She couldn’t. 

But it could wait, right?

She felt one of the charms on her necklace heat up and vibrate.

Barely a second after she accepted the call by squeezing Ginny’s broomstick charm in her hand, four voices rang out. 

“Princess!”

“Hi big sister! My nose is bleeding!”

“Lydia!”

“We did a bad thing!”

She really had to take a moment to sigh. 

“Are y’all in the same mess?”

George spoke. 

“Mhm! Provoked some Slytherin girl, because she was pushing around Rhys. Ow hell!”

She pinched her nose. 

“Location?”

Ginny’s voice yelled, “Fifth floor, just outside Ravenclaw Tower!”

“They came to pick me up!” Luna said, sounding absurdly happy for her situation. “But then a scary girl punched me!”

Lydia sighed and began running. 

“On my way. Save some of her for me.”

She really wanted to swear when she saw it was Rhys’ older sister. 

“Rhiannon, let go of your brother!”

Rhys’ sister, Rhiannon, scowled and tried to send a spell in Lydia’s direction. 

Key word: Tried.

Lydia ducked as the dark colored spell came flying, and it soared right over her head. 

She grabbed Ginny’s arm, where she was stuck to the wall by ugly colored paste, and pulled. 

Ginny became unstuck, and fell to her knees on the stone floor. 

Cursing under her breath, she flicked her wrist at Rhiannon’s nose. Instantly, boils erupted, and the Slytherin dropped Rhys. 

Lydia made her way over, helped Rhys to his feet, then landed a punch to Rhiannon’s nose, popping a boil. 

They all let out yells of disgust, and Lydia rubbed the puss on Rhiannon’s robes. 

Turning, she saw Ginny and Luna helping George stand on his likely broken foot, and Rhys cleaning up the scene with his wand. 

Lydia landed a kick to Rhiannon’s ankle. 

“Leave them alone, for fuck’s sake. You don’t get anything out of hurting others.”

“But you do. You get joy, don’t you? Go ahead and hit me, you know the screams excite you.”

“Shut up.”

“You keep on like this, you’ll really be a monster. Hurting people because they’ve hurt you isn’t equal. It just makes you bad.”

Luna came from behind and slapped Rhiannon. 

“Hush now, you’re acting silly.”

Ginny nearly dropped George as she tried to stifle her laugh.

Lydia couldn't laugh though, because was Rhiannon right?

* * *

Her second meeting with Sirius and Ardrig was spent sitting in a tree with the mirror propped between her knees, and wind rocking the tree.

“Lydia, you need to, I don’t know, get on solid ground?!”

Ardrig grinned.

“You humans are so fragile.”

Lydia laughed.

“Mate, I’m fine. I’ve spent half my life in a tree. Meeting? Let’s go?”

Sirius sighed, but Ardrig ignored him and got down to business.

“Miss McBrien, Lord Black and I were discussing how to get him to the bank, and we believe it best to wait until you are able to provide a distraction. Can you think of any way you will be helpful?”

She hummed.

“Well, I assume we’ll be at HQ over winter holiday, but it will be hard. Maybe I could suggest we decorate a tree down in the sitting room and he can use the Floo to get here? We could enlist Remus to help.”

Sirius cleared his throat.

“I think it’s best he doesn’t know yet. He’s indebted to Albus, at least he thinks so, and I doubt he’d be up to this whole scheme. Though, he might be. He was always hit or miss with following James and I’s plans.”

Ardrig sighed.

“That is not helpful, Lord Black. Miss McBrien, will this...tree nonsense provide a distraction for at least two hours?”

Lydia nodded.

“Yeah. The twins know I’m doing something, so they'll probably release some sort of prank if I ask.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up.

“Yes! Those demon twins will be immensely helpful.”

“...Demons?” Ardrig asked, then shook his head. “Nevermind, I want plausible deniability. Just make sure no one notices Lord Black has left.”

“Will do, Sir Ardrig. May I ask though, why is he needed at the bank? I thought you wouldn't need him until he was supposed to die.”

They pause for a moment before answering and Lydia lets out an exclamation of understanding.

“Ah! You’re doing it at Christmas, then? That won’t be traumatizing at all.”

Sirius winced.

“We figured sooner was better.”

“If you want Mister Potter to be in Simon Potter-Zimmer’s custody by June, then we need to get the death over with. In the meantime, try to spread gossip about a supposed Potter relative no one’s heard of. It will help his supposed reentrance seem more believable.”

Lydia hummed in acceptance, but asked Sirius, “You’re not telling Harry, then?”

Sirius sighed.

“Harry hasn’t called me on his mirror. I think he’s angry with me.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “You didn’t explain you wanted him to call regularly, did you?”

“Well, no. I just said if Snape bothered him-”

“Eh!” Lydia made a sound like a buzzer. “That’s where you screwed up. Harry will never tell anyone someone’s bothering him, aside from Ron and Hermione.You have to learn to see when things are wrong.”

Pausing, she added, “So you’re going to write Harry and tell him you’re okay and any rumors of your death are false, but he is the only one allowed to know, right?”

Sirius frowned.

“But-”

Sighing Lydia held a hand up.

“Shut up. Either tell him or don’t, but if he has a breakdown because he thinks the only family that cares about him is dead, I’m not lying and I  _ will  _ tell him. I’m not waiting until Simon is real to the Ministry of Idiots.”

At that, Ardrig laughed so hard his face turned blue, and he said, “I don’t despise you, Miss McBrien.”

That was as close to an ‘I love you’ as Lydia thought she’d ever get.

Sirius obviously wanted to change the subject, because he asked, “Lydia, how is school?”

“I too wonder what the wizards are teaching young witches these days,” Ardrig admitted, looking genuinely curious. 

“Meh, it’s not too interesting right now. Umbridge, the defense professor, is a total bitch. Like, she is awful. Harry’s already gotten a detention because she picks on him the most.”

She paused a moment, then added, “Don’t tell him I told you he has a detention, he might start yelling again. Also don’t tell him I said he’s been yelling, either. By the way, when you’ve gotten custody of him he should really go to therapy. Like shit, that kid has issues to work out. Granted, so do I…”

Sirius blinks at her for a moment in what seems like surprise, but Ardrig easily writes down what she had said. 

“Mister Potter will get a therapist, do not worry, Miss McBrien.”

Satisfied with that day’s work, Ardrig ended his end of the call.

Sirius didn’t. (Or should she start calling him Simon now?)

“Lydia, could I ask something?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Do you really think this whole death thing is a good idea? It’s wrong to fool all our friends, isn’t it?”

She sighed. 

“Here’s the thing, Sirius. Or Simon, I guess. You and I aren’t completely light. Morally, we’re grey. And it’s okay, because we  _ choose  _ the lighter decisions most times. But sometimes you can’t. Sometimes you have to choose the grey choice because you’re the only one who isn’t scared to do bad things for good reasons. Does that make sense?”

He was silent for a moment, but before she could repeat herself, he said, “We’re not light because of the things we’ve done and lived through. So we have a different vantage point from those who believe the light is the only choice. They’re scared to make possibly bad choices, even if it does good later. So...telling them would mean they might stop us from doing the right thing in the long run.”

“Exactly. Someone like Mrs. Weasley would think you need to do things the completely legal way. But that means you’d be stuck in caves or Grimmauld Place until you die. Most of the Order would agree, I wager. People like us know that’s ridiculous, you can’t sit down and never fight for your life. Because it’s  _ your life _ . You deserve to be a free man, even under a fake identity. You’re not a bad person for not being miserable.”

He gave a sigh and nodded. 

“Alright, alright. Thank you, little bird. I suppose I was worrying too much about being the opposite of my family.”

“Listen to me, Sirius. The Blacks aren’t your family. They share some blood with you, but so does every other wizard or witch in Britain. The Potters were and are your real family. And they loved you the way you were. Remember that.”

He laughed a watery sort of laugh. 

“Thanks, kid. Get back to your dorm or wherever you’re supposed to be.”

“I’m supposed to be in Herbology right now. I got a pass for the infirmary.”

He blinked. 

“Skipping? Tsk tsk, Lydia.”

“Oh piss off, you have no room to talk.”

Laughing, he ended the call. 

Tucking the mirror into her bag, she hopped from the tree and started sprinting to the infirmary before she got caught. 

* * *

Lydia was aware of many things, but self awareness was not her strong suit. It had taken her much too long to even realize her crush on George, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t just stop feeling the way she did. It was impossible, so why did she still feel at home with him? It didn’t make sense, and she wanted it to stop.

“Princess, guess what!”

She turned to look at Fred with a raised eyebrow.

“Let me guess, you've spiked the toad’s tea with the polyjuice of a cat.”

“No, I haven’t - wait, that’s a good idea. Write that down!”

Shaking her head, she stared at him.

“What is it, Freddie?”

“Angie and I are trying things out. It took me forever to convince her, but tonight we’re sneaking out for a date.”

She smiled.

“I’m glad you’re trying it out, I know you two had fun at the ball last year.”

He nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, we did! But um, I wanted to ask something.”

“Shoot.”

“Will you keep George and Lee occupied? I  _ really  _ want this to work out.”

Stifling a laugh at his desperate face, Lydia nodded.

“Sure thing, Fred. I’ll play a board game with them or something.”

He hugged her and started to walk off. When he turned back, he grinned,

“Lee always falls asleep first so-”

“Oh my god don’t ever wink like that again! And shut up, I’m not making a move on your brother!”

“Which one?”

Lydia startled so badly at Ginny’s voice she accidentally threw her sandwich.

As it stuck to Ginny’s shirt, Lydia sighed.

“Dammit, my turkey sandwich.”

Fred made a run for it, while Ginny sat down at the table next to her.

“Which brother? And how come you never told me?

Rolling her eyes, Lydia began picking the turkey and lettuce off Ginny’s shirt.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m not telling him. It wouldn’t work.”

“Why not? All my brothers love you. Except maybe Ron. Oh hell, it better not be Ron!”

“It’s not Ron! I’m not having this conversation again, Ginny, nothing is happening between us.”

Ginny, much to Lydia’s horror, began to puzzle it out.

“Let’s see, you don’t know Charlie yet, so not him. You and Ron don’t get along, so not him. Obviously it’s not Fred, or Percy because he's a git. Oh no, tell me it’s not Bill! He’s like nine years older than you!”

Lydia shoved the turkey into Ginny’s mouth so she would stop talking.

“Shut up! I’m not telling you because I’m not acting on it. It’s just a silly crush and I’ll get over it eventually.”

“When did it start?”

“I don’t know, a year ago or something. He’s always made me feel this way, except now I kind of want him to kiss me. Stop  _ giggling! _ ”

Ginny grinned.

“It’s George! You haven’t known Bill for a year!”

“Oh you little shit! You tricked me!”   
Ginny cackled.

“I can’t believe you like him! I thought it was platonic.”

“Yeah, well, it is. Or it will be. Whatever, I’m not doing anything about it!”

“You can’t just  _ not _ fancy someone, Lydia. It’s not a thing you control.”

Lyda shrugged.

“I’ll be the first to, then.”

“It’s not going to work.”

“It’ll have to.”

Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Oh yeah, how?”

Lydia shrugged.

“I don’t know yet. But it will. I just have to practice.”

Ginny sighed and pulled her from the table.

“Let me know how that works out for you, love. Now come on, I came to get you because Harry’s trying to do a backflip off the Astronomy Tower and Colin’s filming it.”

Not having a crush on George is very hard, Lydia’s decided.

It was easy when Lee was awake, because she could focus on him, over George.

But eventually he fell asleep, and it was just George and her awake.

They managed for a few hours into the night, but eventually they tried to sleep.

“Lydia, c’mere.”

“Why, I’m almost asleep.”

He snorted.

“Sleeping on the floor is not good for your back, and you know it.”

Her stubbornness rearing its head, she had demanded, “Why not? You think you’d be a better pillow?”

“Yes.”

Let it be said that Lydia knew she shouldn’t take the bait. She should finish the joke, and laugh it off. Lydia  _ knew  _ this. And yet…

“Fine, no take backs.”

And she had laid herself out on his lap, with her head on his chest.

Her heart was so busy making itself known, she couldn’t hear that his was equally as fast.

Somehow, her heart calmed and he fell asleep.

Only one problem: She was woken half an hour later from a nightmare.

George’s hands were gentle on her back, holding one of her flailing arms gently.

“Hey, wake up love. It‘s just a dream.”

She rubbed at her face in an attempt to prevent tears, but he must have felt them.

“It’s alright, look at me. Just focus on me.”

She did look at him, because did she ever deny him what he wanted? No.

He looked like he hadn’t even gone to sleep, but he was still smiling. He was always smiling.

“There’s my girl. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can I touch you? are we out of it, yet?’

“Yeah.”

He brought the hand not against her back to her cheek, and carefully swiped a few tears away.

“Talk to me, what did you see?”

She doesn't know why she tells him. When Fred saw the things he did, she was horrified. 

But George had always been different, somehow. He was where she felt home. So, she told him.

“My grandmother, I saw her die. Um, the good one. Not the one I talk about a lot.”

“Your grandfather’s wife?”

“Yeah. Her name was Bronte. My grandfather always told me it fit her, because it meant thunder in Greek.”

“Why does it fit her”

Lydia smiled.

“She was more storm than human, my grandfather says. You didn’t see her anger until suddenly you felt it in the air and hitting you in the face. But if she was happy, it was like a summer's breeze.”

“Sounds like you, Princess.”

Lydia smiled, but it faded quickly.

“When she died, I was there. it was my first really big accidental magic. The shelves were torn out of the wall, windows and vases were shattered, my clothes were ripped to shreds...Everything was destroyed except my grandmother. When my family found us, I was sitting next to my grandmother and glass was floating in a protective barrier around us.”

George was staring at her, and she went on before he could speak.

“When my other grandmother saw… It was bad. She’s never liked change, but she hated my magic. She tried to keep me locked away, but then my dad said they could use me for the Company. She-she liked that, but they treated me like an animal for the circus for a long time.”

He sat up, bracing her so she didn’t move much.

“I’ll...I’ll go there right now, Lydia. I’ll apparate there, and I’ll punch her. I’ll lock her away, like she did to you.”

She smiled up at him and burrowed her head back into his chest.

“No you won’t.”

“I would, if you asked.”

“But I didn’t.”

Reluctantly, he sighed, “I won’t. But one day.”

* * *

The rest of November and first week of December passed quickly, with two coinciding events: Heidi’s birthday party, and the rootbeer mento disaster. What was the Root Beer Disaster, you ask? This is how it goes.

  1. Heidi turns sixteen, and two days prior, her friends decide she needs a surprise party.



  1. She gets the party, that’s not the problem. The problem is half of her friend group, the sane ones, decide to convince the house elves to switch out all other liquids with root beer during breakfast. Why did they do this? Heidi loves root beer. The only thing she loves more is ice cubes.



This is where the not-so-sane friends come in. Knowing she enjoys ice, but it's bad for her teeth, they rig the ceiling to release individual mentos during breakfast. The chilled kind tastes like ice, but they’re softer to bite into. Plus, everyone’s breath will smell better. It’s a win-win!

Not.

The root beers are sitting on the table, hundreds of mugs filled to the brim with root beer. Mentos drop from the ceiling, thousands of them. They fall into the mugs of rootbeer.

Cue explosions of root beer-mento-concoction all across the Great Hall.

Umbridge’s face gets hit, Dumbledore’s face gets hit, Heidi’s face gets hit, everyone’s faces and clothing get hit.

The cups overflow. There’s foaming root beer-mentos overflowing tables and going onto the stone floor.

Students are standing up in surprise, they’re slipping. There are bodies on the floor.

Umbridge is screaming, Dumbledore is laughing, Pansy Parkinson is sobbing into Draco Malfoy’s robes. 

Heidi is laughing so hard she cries. She’s soaked in rootbeer, her blonde hair turned nearly brown with the drink.

It’s utter chaos.

  1. Umbridge is demanding who did it. She’s calling it a travesty to wizardkind. Everyone else has coined it The Root Beer Disaster of ‘95. No one fesses up. Everyone is united in making Umbrdge’s life inconvenient at this point in the year, so nobody snitches.



  1. Everyone gets detentions. All two hundred thirty four students have detention. Still, no one has snitched. Lydia had detention with the other Gryffindors of her year, all cleaning the charms room while Professor McGonagall lectures them. She kept repeating the words, “A successful transfiguration is one a fellow witch or wizard cannot see is a transfiguration. If you want to get away with - ahem, successful pull off - a spell, you must be devoted.” Lydia thinks Professor McGonagall approved of the prank, just not that it got her robes dirty.



They finally, after everyone has served two weeks of detention a root beer less castle, are allowed to leave their dorms for something other than lessons, meals, and detentions. Of course, the DA uses this as an opportunity for a last meeting before the holiday break.

It’s not so interesting, aside from the practicing of Patronuses. 

Lydia was excited for this part, namely because it’s one thing Harry was able to teach her. She’s less excited that she hasn’t succeeded yet. (Okay, she’s pissed off.)

But the most interesting part of the night is when Hermione came out of the room dragging a confused Ron, and tried dragging Lydia away as well.

“Hermione,” Lydia had said, “Cho and Harry still haven’t made it back. I’m not leaving if they might be caught.”

“Shh, they’ll be fine! It’s  _ just them. _ ”

It immediately clicked what she was trying to say, and Lydia joined her in dragging Ron to the dorm.

Lydia is actually giddy as the three wait for Harry, and Ron is halfway to beating her at chess when Harry stumbles through the portrait.

He looks confused, the poor thing, and slightly stunned.

“So…” Hermone pries, “How was it?”

“What?”

“Did you kiss her?” Ron demands, and Lydia uses the distraction as a chance to take his bishop. “Aw bloody hell.”

“Uh, I-”

Lydia sits up a little straighter, her curiosity getting the best of her. She’s sure she looks just as eager as Ron and Hermione do.

“ _ Well? _ ”

“Yeah, I think we did.”

Ron made a triumphant gesture with his fist and went into a raucous peal of laughter that made Hermione jump.

Hermione glared at him, then demanded of Harry, “How was it?”

Harry shrugs.

“It was, it was wet.”

Lydia can’t help herself, and snorts. “I’m sorry,  _ what? _ ”

Hermione stands and leads Harry to the sofa.

“What do you mean, Harry? Did you go outside?”

He blushes.

“No, uh, she was crying.”

Ron laughs.

“You’re that bad a kisser?”

Harry, looking very gloomy now, sighs.

“Maybe?”

Hermione, bless her, jumps to Harry’s defense.

“I’m sure Harry is a perfectly fine kisser! Poor Cho was probably overwhelmed.”

“Over a kiss?” Ron sounded very judgy. “And how do you know he’s a good kisser?!”

Lydia shared a look with Hermione which she never thought would happen.

Hermione took over explaining.

“Cho’s always crying, nowadays. At mealtimes, in the loos, all over.”

“But how do you know Harry’’s a good kisser?! He could just be awful! And even so, you’d think kissing would cheer her up.”

Lydia snorted, but they all ignored the first half of what Ron said.

“Ron,” Hermione said, picking up a random book from beneath the sofa and thumbing through it, “ you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet."

Lydia and Harry didn’t manage to stifle their laughs, but the now quarreling pair didn’t notice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Ron indignantly. "What sort of person cries while someone's kissing them?"

"Yeah," said Harry, slightly desperately, "who does?"

Hermione looked at the pair of them with an almost pitying expression on her face. Lydia only wished Ginny were here, because she quite enjoyed seeing the stupidity of boys.

"Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?" she asked.

"No," said Harry and Ron together.

Hermione sighed and laid down her book.

"Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Sorry, Lydia. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings are toward Harry anyway, because he was the one with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly."

A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode."

Lydia snorted.

“You’d be surprised how much a person can feel, Mate. For example, I’m constantly enraged.”

"Ron, just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily, picking up her book again and beginning to read with a glare.

"She was the one who started it," said Harry. "I wouldn't've -- she just sort of came at me -- and next thing she's crying all over me -- I didn't know what to do -- "

Oh, poor Harry. Poor oblivious, socially awkward, human disaster, Harry.

"Don't blame you, mate," said Ron, looking alarmed at the very thought.

"You just had to be nice to her," said Hermione, looking up anxiously. "You were, weren't you?"

If he wasn’t Lydia would need to go back on her promise to Sirius of protecting his godson. She’d have to punch him.

"Well," said Harry, a great red blush creeping up his face, "I sort of -- patted her on the back a bit."

Hermione looked as though she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty.

Lydia didn’t bother, and breathed out, “Oh my god, you’re so socially inept. I really need to write Sirius and get him to work on that.”

“Wait a minute!” Harry suddenly exclaimed, “Have you been writing to my godfather? Are you penpals?!”

Lydia grinned.

“We write like, every other week. He misses you, by the way. He finds it very funny that I can beat you in a duel. Oh, and how you slipped over your own shoe last week sent him into a fit of laughter so bad Remus had to use the Heimlich on him.”

Before Harry could acknowledge  _ that _ , she said, “Harry, I’m sure you’re a lovely kisser. First kisses are never not awkward, trust me.”

Hermione nodded sagely, and Ron snorted. 

“It’s not like you’ve had your first kiss.”

“Yes, I have.”

“What, with Neville?”

She fought a blush, and exclaimed, “No! I had my first kiss the summer before last. In fact, she quite liked kissing me.”

There was silence for a split second, then Ron whispered, “ _ She? _ ”

Lydia’s face quickly went blank, and she forced a laugh. 

Running to the stairs, she called, “Oh look, I have geography to do! See you!”

“Hogwarts doesn’t have geography!”

“I do!”

The next morning, Lydia woke to Hermione sitting at the foot of her bed, fully dressed, with both Crookshanks and Stoner in her lap. 

Lydia rubbed at her eyes for a moment, and then sat up fully. 

She had been in quite the rush to sleep last night, and so had slept in her uniform shirt. 

Unbuttoning it, she looked at Hermione. 

“We don’t need to talk about it.”

She smiled at her. 

“Actually, we should. More like, I’m going to say something and you’ll listen.”

Lydia sighed and gestured for her to continue. 

“Lydia, we don’t get along. I don’t like your methods, and you don’t like mine. We just barely tolerate each other. But I want you to know that despite all that, my feelings about you haven’t changed. I care about you the same amount I always have, whether you like girls or not, and you shouldn’t have to hide that.”

Lydia smiled, but Hermione wasn’t finished. 

“I won’t tell anyone you don’t want to know, and neither will Harry or Ron. I know you don’t really care about what Ron or I think, but Harry doesn't mind at all. He was confused, but that’s just because he’d never heard about being gay before.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione summed up, “It’s a bit silly for me to have had this rather long rant, but I practiced it in the shower this morning and I didn’t want you to feel scared we wouldn’t be okay with it.”

Lydia held out a hand, and Hermione’s eyes lit up. 

“Friends? Really?”

“Take the hand before I regret this, Hermione.”

Hermione let out an excited sort of squeal, and Lydia was crushed in a hug. 

* * *

Lydia just wants to say, for the record, she loathes being woken by Hermione. 

The girl pokes and prods and talks about lessons in an annoyingly high pitched voice until Lydia eventually gets angry enough to sift through her dresser for a knife, and by the time she’s found the knife she’s completely awake. 

That bitch. 

Lydia hates being woken by Hermione and being told Professor McGonagall wants to see them even more. 

It’s not that Professor McGonagall is a bad person, or that she doesn’t like the woman. It’s just that being told first thing in the morning your Head of House needs to see you urgently is never a good omen. Even Trelawney knows that. 

They make it to the woman’s office, picking up Colin and Neville along the way for whatever reason, and then they’re told to sit. 

She tells them all a horrifying story about visions and a snake and Mr. Weasley being in critical condition. 

The worst thing? She really wants a hug from the twins right now, and she can’t have one because they’re in hospital with their dad. And she has no right to be this upset, but she’s shaking and Neville is hugging her, and so is Colin. Hermione and Professor McGonagall are giving her pity looks, and goddammit where is her knife?!

“You may Floo using my office, when the holiday break starts.”

“Professor-”

She sighs. 

“Miss Granger, I understand you are very worried, we all are. But do you think it would be suspicious to Madame Umbridge if the entire Weasley family, Harry Potter, and five other students suddenly disappear unauthorized?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Exactly. Pack your things, it will only be a day.”

They arrived through the Floo at Headquarters just a day later, like Professor McGonagall promised, and Lydia is slightly confused as to why Sirius is there, but she quickly remembers he isn’t dead yet. 

“Sirius, hi.”

He beckons her forward and into a hug, then points to Luna. 

“You are..?”

“Luna Lovegood, it’s nice to meet you Mister Stubby.”

Lydia stifles a chuckle, and asks, “Where are they?” 

Sirius points to an adjacent room. 

“We were able to move him here, since Tonks and Molly have some training in healing. We figured getting him away from the public eye was best. The other kids are supposed to be asleep, if you’d like to go to bed as well.”

Thinking of the twins immediately, she asked, “Same rooms as this summer?”

“Yeah. Be quiet, remember. Arthur is asleep and the old bat’s portrait-”

“Yeah, will do! Luna, Nev, Col, Ginny’s room is just past the landing, I’ll show you.”

After leaving them there, and Hermione ducking into Ron and Harry’s room, Lydia found the twins’. 

They were asleep, sharing a bed, and she wriggled her way between them. 

They woke up partly, and Fred pulled her closer. 

“Princess?”

“Mhm, I’m here, baby.”

George reached out blindly, and latched a finger onto her shirt strap. She grabbed into his hand, feeling his frantic heartbeat slow as he registered it. 

“We missed you, so scared.”

She shushed him. 

“I know baby, I’m scared too. Just sleep.”

One of them kissed the top of her head, but she didn’t mind which, because she was too preoccupied with trying not to picture Mr. Weasley dead. 

Fred suddenly spoke, voice surprisingly clear for being asleep still. 

“It’s okay, Princess. I know you’re scared.”

She burrowed her head into his chest. 

“I know I shouldn’t be, he’s your dad, not mine.”

“He can be your dad too, he’s always been okay with that.”

She let out a quiet sob. 

“I didn’t want to cry.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay, Princess. We’re here now.”

They were. They always were. 

* * *

When Mr. Weasley’s wounds were finally healed all the way, just before Christmas day, he decided he wanted to have a party. Lydia suggested they use the party to put up a tree, and decorate it.

“Ah, I think I’ll skip this one!” Sirius proclaimed loudly. He started up the stairs to buckbeak’s room. “Christmas trees are not my forte, but you know what is? Firewhiskey and Led Zeppelin! G’night!”

Lydia stared blankly for a moment at his subtlety, but no one else seemed suspicious. 

It was halfway through the night, when the tree was about half covered with ornaments and tinsel that the twins grabbed her hands.

“Lydia, we want you to meet somebody.”

“He’s the only one Weasley you haven’t met!”

They dragged her into the kitchen, where a muscled man was. He looked like the twins, with red hair, too many freckles, and a heavyset sort of body type.

He stuck out a hand, and grinned at her.

“Charlie Weasley.”

She smiled a little, and shook his hand. It was warmer than hers, and scarred.

“I’m Lydia, nice to meet you. George and Fred have told me quite a few stories.”

He glared at them.

“You can’t embarrass me before even introducing us. That’s against the rules.”

Fred shrugged.

“Get rid of your dignity, and we won’t embarrass you so often, Mate. Anyway, you’re the only one who hasn’t met Lydia, so give her about five minute and you’ll feel the urge to wrap her in a blanket and protect her.”

Lydia opened her mouth in offence, but George just shook his head at her.

“Nope, no denying it, Princess. Every other Weasley loves you, ‘cept Ron.”

Charlie gestured to the table he was sitting at, and handed her a cup and the tea kettle.

“Alright, I can do five minutes. How did you meet the twins?”

Raising her eyebrows and sitting, she asked, “That’s your question? Doesn’t really seem like your general getting to know someone question.”

He shrugged.

“You can tell a lot about someone by how they meet people. For example, when you introduced yourself, you only used your first name. It suggests there’s something about your blood family you don’t like.”

She blinked at his psychoanalysis, then said, “I went to find them after they set off a prank of switching shoes so I could get the quid in mine back. When they didn’t tell me where, I told them they owed me if it wasn’t there the next morning.”

He nodded.

“And how did you become friends with them?”

“Uh, I played a prank of my own with Peeves, and then suggested a prank for them to try. After that, we just...were friends.”

Charlie smiled, like he had just figured something out.

“Yeah, I like you. You catered to their interests, and didn’t piggyback off their ideas to get known around school. The fact that you’re still good friends, in fact best friends, after four years shows you actually care. From what Ginny’s told me, you helped her out the second you could. That says a lot.”

“Stop psychoanalyzing me.”

Fred and George laughed, then suddenly left.

“Four minutes remaining, Princess, and you’ve almost got his heart!”

She rolled her eyes, then turned back to Charlie.

“Talk to me about what makes a broomstick fly. Nobody's been able to give me a straight answer and I’m tired of it.”

Grinning, he braced his arms on the table and began to speak passionately.

Outside the door, George leaned in to whisper to Fred, “Two minutes and fifteen seconds. New record, innit?”

“No way, she nabbed Flitwick in thirty seconds.”

“He doesn’t count! He’s practically her dad.”

“Fine, but Mum adopted her before she even got to the Burrow.”

George rolled his eyes.

“Mum adopts everyone!”

Lydia was awoken near dawn with the rining from her mirror.

She rolled from bed, took it with her to the library Sirius has shown her over the summer, and answered the call.

Ardrig and Sirius,, turned Simon, were together and looking at her when it connected.

“Sir Ardrig, Simon. Is it done?”

They nodded, and Simon said, “Did we wake you? I thought it’d be just before breakfast there.”

“I think it should be, but the prank Fred and George set off kept us all up past midnight. It’s about seven.”

They nodded.

Ardrig cleared his throat.

“It is almost finished, Miss McBrien. Lord Potter Zimmer’s former body will be in his room at your residence, and it will look like a Dark curse has attacked him. What we need from you is simple. when the others have woken this morning, point out to an adult that Sirius never returned from his room. Make sure you look concerned.”

“Will do, Sir Ardrig. That shouldn’t be hard. As for Harry and Remus?’

Sirius spoke.

“Remus will receive a letter in two days, explaining everything. It will be enough that he can leave HQ with the guise of mourning, and it won’t be suspicious. Harry will be told in person, after my death has been announced.”

Lydia frowned, but before she could protest, Ardrig interrupted.

“We understand you do not like keeping Heir Potter in the dark, Miss McBrien. However, he is known for being unable to keep a secret. Do you wish anyone to find out?”

“No, I don’t. But...if he’s hurting I can explain, right? I don’t think I could watch him breakdown and not do anything.”

Sirius and Ardrig looked at each other, then both nodded.

“Yes, You may. Any other questions?”

“No, sir. I’m telling the twins as well, because I can’t handle this alone.”

They didn’t argue, so she waved goodbye and hung up.

Now to wait for someone to wake.

The morning after, Lydia was sitting in the window sill of a tall window, watching her breath fog it up with each breath

Hearing limping behind her, and then the smell of chocolate, she turned.

“Morning, Mr. Weasley.”

“Good morning, Lydia. Cocoa?”

She shifted so he could sit beside her, then took the mug.

“Thanks.”

They sipped their cocoa in silence for a while, when he spoke.

“What’s going on in that intelligent mind of yours, Lydia? It’s not often teenagers are up before noon, you know.”

She smiled.

“Oh, just… Do you know about the study group we’re all in?”

“Ah, I have heard. In fact, Molly’s been most upset. The word we’ve heard is that it’s illegal.”

“‘ One has not only a legal, but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws.’ That’s a quote by Martin Luther King Jr. I think that, even though this law isn’t the worst of them, it’s still our duty, as students, to disobey it for an education that will protect us, rather than hurt us. If we obey, we won’t be ready.”

He traced the rim of his mug with the pad of a finger before he spoke.

“What are you thinking about, if I may?”

She sighed.

“There’s this charm. And it’s really useful, and everyone else is getting it, but I can’t no matter how hard I try. Why can’t I get it, Mr. Weasley? Charms are supposed to be my thing.”

“Which charm?”

“The Patronus.”

He hummed. “Ah, I see. Lydia, weren’t you just telling Neville he doesn’t need to get it? That he is still worthy, if he can’t achieve everything?”

“Yes, but it’s different for me.”

“How so? What raises you to a higher standard than the others? You are just a girl, Lydia.”

“My job is to protect them. I’m nothing if not their protector.”

He tried a different direction.

“What memories have you tried? perhaps they’re not strong enough.”

She huffed a bitter laugh.

“If they’re not strong enough, nothing will be. I’ve used ones with Fred and George, with Ginny, Lna,even ones with my brother. But none worked.”

“What about your parents? our grandfather perhaps?”

A frown came over her face, but when Mr. Weasley blinked it was gone.”

“I don’t have many good ones with them.”

He patted her on the shoulder, stood up, and smiled.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t make some good ones this Christmas, hm?”

Lydia, thinking back to the mirror call she’d received just hours earlier, pasted on a worried look.

“Mr. Weasley, there’s something else.”

“Yes, what is it?”

Feeling very bad for lying to him, she asked, “Where’s Sirius? He never came down last night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves! I genuinely don’t know how this is so long, but I hope you enjoy the nice treat!! There’s still plenty of plot to go, so don’t worry. :) Give me your feelings on the Sirius/Simon situation. Do you like? I’m super excited for it!!   
> Get ready for angst to strike, because that’s basically the entire content of the next four chapters!!   
> Any thoughts on this chapter? I love y’all’s comments!
> 
> words: 8787 (holy shit)  
> Next Week: the ramifications of this week’s cliffhanger :)


	5. Pritt the Prat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia deals with the aftermath of the last chapter, and gets herself involved with a girl named Ciara Pritt. It seems perfect, until it isn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: aftermath of fake d*ath  
> -there's one mention of calories, and a controlling relationship. I'll put a little * before that paragraph, so skip it if you need. I’ll recap it at the end in notes.

Lydia hadn’t really gone into this plan with expectations to how everyone would react. She really should have.

Mr. Weasley had limped off after assuring her Sirius was probably just sleeping, though the urgency in his movements proved he was lying. Mrs. Weasley was heard crying ten minutes later, and then suddenly all the teens were herded into Ron and Harry’s room and told not to leave.

The others all went back to sleep not having been told anything and tired enough not to question the lack of answers yet. The twins were not the others.

Once Harry and Hermione had finally fallen asleep, the last of them to, Fred and George stuffed themselves into the corner Lydia had been sitting in for the past twenty minutes.

“Lydia, this is that thing, isn’t it?’

“That thing you couldn’t tell us because it was beyond what we could take?’

She sighed, and nodded.

“Did you...Lydia, what did you do?”

She looked at Fred, then George, beseechingly.

“I didn’t want to, I wanted to tell you, and I didn’t want them to do it now-”

“Them?”

“Do  _ what? _ ”

She forced herself to clasp her hands so they wouldn’t shake, confused why she was feeling so affected by this.

“Sirius and I’ve been planning for months, to get him freedom, and Harry’s custody.”

“Yes, we know that.”

“A goblin was helping us, and Sirius decided he couldn’t put it off if we wanted it to be believable, so he faked his death last night. I’m the only one besides them to know, but what Mr. Weasley found upstairs…”

“It’s not Sirius’ body.” Fred realized.

Lydia nodded.

“it’s a fake, a golem that the goblins made. I swear, I’d never kill him, please believe me.”

George sighed and leaned his head atop hers.

“We know you didn’t kill him, but why do this? Why be so secretive? You didn’t even tell us.”

“Would you have been okay with it?”

George hesitated, but Fred sighed.

“I think, if you had explained, we would have. It’s not good, Lydia, it really isn’t. you can’t just fake your death because the other ways are harder.”

“But if we hadn’t Sirius never would have gotten free!”

George placted her by taking hold of her hand.

“We know, Lydia. But you need to know that the legal way isn’t always bad. In this case, it was bad. But what if next time it’s you breaking a law and not wanting to face consequences? It can’t be like that.”

“I-I know. It’s not gonna be like that, promise. I just really wanted to help Harry and Sirius, I don’t plan to always circumvent the law like this.”

Fred nodded, and finally caved to offer her physical comfort by holding her hand.

“It’s okay, Princess, I’m not upset. I just needed to know you understood.”

“I do, I promise, Freddie.” After a moment, she asked, “Why do I feel so nervous? I’ve never felt like this.”

“Are you upset you might have hurt the people who care about Sirius.”

“...Maybe? I mean, I guess that sounds right. I never wanted anyone to get hurt, I just wanted to fix things for Sirius.”

Fred squeezed her hand.

“But you are gonna hurt them. Because to them, he’s dead. And that hurts people.”

“What do I do?”

“Nothing.”

She didn’t like that, but she knew Fred was right. Even if it wasn’t real in this case, Death doesn't care who they hurt. Death takes, both from the dead and from those who loved.

She would just have to deal with whatever repercussions came from this, and hope Harry didn’t hate her too much. 

Harry wasn’t well. When Dumbledore confirmed Sirius’ “death” and took the body away to bury, Harry had stood and ran from the room. 

Lydia had followed, as everyone else was too in shock. 

“Harry,” she whispered, knocking on his bedroom door with her knuckles, “I’m going to come in.”

“Why,” he asked when she entered, looking up at her from his spot in the floor leaned against his bed. “Why did this happen?”

She bit her lip. 

“Sirius...I’m not supposed to tell you, but fuck it. He faked his death.”

“You’re not funny.”

She crouched into a sitting position next to him, and gently nudged his head onto her shoulder. Lifting a hand to stroke his hair, she said, “I’m not joking. He and a goblin placed a fake body in there for them to find, and I helped. He’s taken on a new identity to adopt you, and he is free.”

“Prove it.”

Relieved he hadn’t told her to piss off yet, she fished the mirror from her pocket. 

“Simon Potter-Zimmer.”

Simon’s face faded into the mirror, and he waved. 

“Did it work?”

Harry poked his head into view. 

Simon cringed at the sight of Harry crying. 

“Harry, are you-”

“Don’t ask if I’m okay, Sirius! Why would I be okay? I get told you’re  _ dead _ , and Lydia tells me some elaborate tale of a stupid plan, and suddenly I see your face alive, but minutes ago you were dead! Don’t ask if I’m okay.”

Simon nodded. 

“Alright, Prongslet, I won't. I’m not going to ask if you’re mad, because obviously you are, and that’s alright. Just don’t be too upset with Lydia, please. It wasn’t her idea or decision, she only helped because I asked.”

Harry turned his head to look at her. 

“I am angry. Why do this, why not tell me?”

Simon sighed. 

“I didn’t want you to know until after. And Harry, you can’t tell anyone.”

Harry looked about to explode again, so Lydia set the mirror against a shoe, allowing Simon to still see them, and turned her body towards Harry’s. 

“Harry,” she said seriously, resting her hands on his shoulders, “This is why we didn’t tell you at first, because this plan working, Simon - er, Sirius - being free and adopting you… It wouldn’t work if everyone knew. He  _ needs  _ to be dead to everyone else. To everyone except us. If anyone knows, it’s not a secret identity, is it?”

“Well, no. But what about the Order?”

Lydia bit her lip. 

“You’ve noticed how everyone else looks at Sirius, haven’t you?”

“Kinda? I mean, I know Mrs. Weasley doesn’t, er…”

Simon smiled in the mirror. 

“You can say it, kid. She hates my guts.”

Snorting at his bluntness, Lydia nodded. 

“It’s not just that, either. Harry, no one here really trusts Sirius that much. In all honesty, were it not for you, Sirius would still be in a cave. Point is, Sirius’ safety is at risk, and telling anyone would risk it.”

“But Ron and Hermione wouldn’t-”

“Do you want to risk that?! Harry, remember over the summer, how I said I didn’t trust anyone here besides the twins and Ginny to touch my hair, and Hermione told me I needed to trust the Order?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did I say no?”

“...Because they’d not done anything to prove themselves to you, and you had no responsibility to trust them.”

She nodded. 

“Do you understand why they can’t know about Sirius?”

“I guess. But it doesn’t feel right.”

Leaning in, she whispered, “Does it feel right not telling them the full extent of your home life?”

He pulled back and glared. 

“Fine, fine, I get it.”

He turned to Simon, and asked, “What have I got to do?”

Smiling, Simon said, “Not much, Prongslet. Just mention offhandedly that you’ve been getting letters from a distant relative, that he’s nice, and pretend to mourn me like you would have.”

“How do I do that?”

Lydia clapped him in the back. 

“I’ll help, but keep on as you are. Don’t leave this room for a bit, refuse to talk about Sirius for a while, just follow my lead.”

Harry picked at the skin around his nails. 

“This feels wrong. Sirius, this is really the only way you’re safe?”

Sighing, Simon nodded. 

“Sorry, Prongslet.”

Harry nodded, and stretched his arms above his head, listening to Lydia and Simon recap their plan. 

Lydia knew he was still angry with her, but she would deal with it later. 

Lydia didn’t have a chance to gauge what everyone’s reactions were, aside from their initial, because they were sent back to Hogwarts early. It was most definitely fear that they would be hurt as well, and Lydia had to try hard to push her guilt away for scaring them so badly. 

It didn’t help that Ginny was crying during the nights and the twins didn’t seem to like her much currently. Then there was the fact that Luna had kept glancing her way oddly on the way back to school. 

It wouldn’t matter, once they had all grieved for the loss of Sirius, she hoped. Soon Simon Potter-Zimmer would make an appearance, and hopefully things could move along. 

For now, Lydia was more interested in Ciara Pritt. 

The girl was a Ravenclaw just above Lydia’s year, and had quite the reputation of being dramatic. 

Lydia soon found out this was true, just a week into the new term. 

As she sat in the Great Hall with just Neville, as their other friends were ill with a flu, Ciara sat down next to her. 

“Huh, I thought there was some kind of beacon here, but I guess you just lit up the room. Ciara Pritt, lovely meeting you.”

Lydia blinked for a moment, speechless, then stuck her hand out for Ciara to grab. 

“Um, hi, just me. Er, I’m Lydia.”

Neville was blinking between the two of them with wide eyes. 

“So Lydia, what do you say to a little stargazing tonight? I hear there’s supposed to be a comet. Romantic, don’t you think?”

Neville muttered, looking very sullen, “Catastrophic, more like.”

“I actually have plans tonight, Ciara. Maybe another time?”

Ciara pouted very dramatically. “Oh, but surely you can put it off! What are you doing?”

Lydia nudged Neville’s hands across the table. 

“Neville and I are studying.”

Ciara rolled her eyes. 

“Oh  _ fine.  _ I suppose you’ve got to stay top of your year somehow. What about the day after? We can pet the unicorns.”

Smiling a little, Lydia nodded. 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll see you then, Ciara.”

As Ciara left, Lydia sighed. 

“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

Neville stared blankly at her. 

“She’s  _ alright.  _ I mean, she’s rather plain. Your hair is shinier than hers.”

Lydia snorted. 

“But still, her eyes are very pretty. I like brown eyes.”

“Really? I think yours are better. Who likes brown eyes?”

Frowning at him, she said, “Baby, you’ve got brown eyes. So’ve like, half of our friends.”

“Okay, but you’re still prettier. What was that about, anyway? Are you actually going?”

Lydia shrugged, picking at her food. 

“Why not? It won’t hurt, and she seems rather nice.”

“Desperate, more like.”

Lydia kicked his shin. 

“Be nice, you won’t even miss me. You’re helping Professor Sprout with her Hellish Hydrangeas, remember.”

He snorted. 

“It’s  _ Relish Hydrangeas _ ! They’re not so bad.”

“They shrieked in my face, they spit on me!”

“They were excited!”

Whatever Neville said, Ciara Pritt  _ was  _ pretty. Beautiful, even. This wasn’t even just Lydia’s opinion, but most everyone that ever laid eyes on her. 

Her brown hair, while dull, hung in curls to her shoulders and was usually pinned out of her face by gold clips. She had the same bony features that most of the rich purebloods did, but she had the chubbiest cheeks. 

Best of all, she had an angelic voice. Apparently her dads had put her in musical theatre as a child, and she performed in musicals each summer. 

Ciara Pritt was _so pretty_.

The next night, Lydia and Ciara met each other at the edge of the forest, and Ciara chatted Lydia’s ear off. Lydia didn’t mind though, it was actually kind of endearing. 

“My friend Terry would really like you. He’s really into the musicals and plays, and stuff. Like Les Mis.”

Ciara shrugged. 

“I don’t think anyone’s as obsessed as I am! Daddy says I’m a protège.”

Lydia hummed. 

“Maybe. You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

Ciara bumped their shoulders. 

“Yeah, I should. I’ll serenade you, my...hm. I need a nickname.”

Lydia snorted. 

“You could just call me my name.”

“No, I need a nickname. Ah! Bunny.”

Lydia found herself laughing as they ducked out of the forest and started on the path back to the castle. 

“Bunny? What made you think of that?”

“Your chubby cheeks, of course.”

Before Lydia could decide if she should be offended or not, Ciara reached for her chin and kissed her. 

With a wink and a wiggle of her fingers, Ciara left down the entrance hall and up a staircase. 

Lydia frowned. 

“Bunny?!”

* * *

Sitting in her room while the majority of her friends were either coming back from detention for a nap (Harry, Fred, and George) or watching the current Quidditch match, Lydia was getting ready to speak with Ardrig and Simon over the mirror.

“Incoming from Simon Potter-Zimmer and Manager Ardrig of Gringotts Bank, England Branch. Accept or deny?”

“As if I’d ever deny. Accept!”

Simon and Ardrig’s faces faded onto the mirror, the setting of Ardrig’s office behind them.

“Lydia, hi!”

“Miss McBrien, I hope you are well.”

She smiled.

“Hi Simon, hello Sir Ardrig. I’m good. How are you two?”

Ardrig waved his hand.

“We have news, Miss McBrien, and I believe you will be pleased.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Simon was grinning too hard to speak, so Ardrig explained.

“As of an hour ago, Simon Potter-Zimmer has taken official access of the Potter family accounts, as well as custody of Harry James Potter.”

Lydia beamed so hard her cheeks hurt, and swore.

“Holy fuck! That’s - shit! I’m gonna go get Harry!”

“Wait, isn’t he - ah, she’s gone. So Ardrig, is there food around here? I’m peckish.”

“Biscuits and tea in the cabinet over there, Lord Potter.”

Lydia returned not even two minutes later, with Harry.

His glasses were lopsided, and he didn’t have a shirt on.

“Er, Lydia, you didn’t tell me we had company,” Harry groans, putting his hands over his chest in an attempt at modesty.

“What do you -  _ fuck,  _ not again!” She reached underneath her bed and handed him one of Neville’s flannels. “I’ve really gotta start knocking.”

Ardrig blinked.

“You are saying you often take shirtless boys out of their dorms?”

Lydia groaned again, and fixed the collar of the flannel absentmindedly.

“Please just tell Harry why he’s here.”

Simon grinned at Harry.

“Kid, are you still up to living with me?”

“Obviously, but - wait. Why are you asking?”

Ardrig held up a piece of parchment.

“I will be passing this certificate through the mirror for a moment so you may see for yourself, but do try not to wrinkle it.”

He made a motion with his hand and pressed the paper up against the mirror so all Lydia and Harry could see for a moment was black. Then, the parchment flew out at them.

Lydia gestured for Harry to grab it.

In bold lettering in the center said:  _**This certificate does hereby pronounce Simon Potter-Zimmer as the official guardian of Harry James Potter on this date, 20th January 1996** _

Harry looked up at the mirror, down to the certificate, then back at the mirror. A moment more of silence, and he flung himself at Lydia in a hug.

She barely caught herself by grabbing the top of her bed with one hand before they fell, the other wrapping around Harry’s side.

“Lydia!”

Laughing, she said, “I know, baby, I know! It’s okay, it’s good!”   


He didn’t bother pulling back all the way, just rested against her side when he finally looked back to Simon and Ardrig.

“That was a good reaction, right?”

“Of course it was...er, Simon? Is that right?’

Ardrig nodded.

“While you are alone or with Lydia you may call him old nicknames, but you mustn’t do so with anyone else, no matter how much you trust them. It’s best to call him by his new identity whenever possible, to keep the habit.”

Harry nodded.

“When can I move in?”

* * *

After a month of Lydia dating Ciara Pritt, Ginny can honestly say the girl’s a bit rude. There are many instances she could think of to demonstrate this, but one in particular comes to mind, of just this morning at breakfast.

Lydia had sat with their usual group, as everyday for the past five years, and Ciara had chosen to sit with them.

This meant Ginny was shoved down farther than she liked, but for some reason Lydia didn’t say anything. That in itself was suspicious.

But the real big thing? Lyda doesn’t make plates up for anyone but Natalie, and sometimes Colin, if he’s ill. She just doesn’t, hates the idea of controlling what someone eats.

So when Ciara asks Lydia to make her a plate, Ginny assumes she’ll refuse.

“Bunny, will you make me a plate?”

That’s another thing, Lydia hates the nickname. She’s ranted to Ginny about it at least three times this week. And yet, she  _ doesn’t say anything! _ It’s not right. 

And, just like every other time Ciara says it, Lydia sucks her cheek in and does so. She actually makes up Ciara’s plate.

*** Ciara smiles and begins to dig in, but doesn’t thank Lydia. She looks at Lydia’s own plate.

“Hm, that roll’s got how many calories, at least a thousand, don’t you think?”

Lydia bites her lip and nods, passing the roll onto Luna’ plate.

“Ah, right. I forgot.”***  
  


Ciara pats her on the arm, and smiles.

She leans in and, Ginny’s hearing must be going, because did the girl just say she’d help Lydia remember?! _ What does that even mean? _

There’s just something wrong about it, and if the way Luna’s been glaring at Ciara when no one else is looking, she knows even more.

Luna knows much more than she’s letting on all the time. It’s an art form, she thinks, to pretend you're clueless when you can see the secrets your friends try to hide. Lydia’s hiding a big and scary secret right now - that’s not to say she isn’t always hiding scary secrets, but it’s easier to ignore those secrets when you're not seeing them occur. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone but Luna, so she doesn’t bother telling anyone.

Luna knows Ciara isn’t as nice as her songs and smiles make her seem. The problem is, no one else seems to notice, except maybe Ginny. Fred and George are always in detention, Neville is a bit oblivious, and Colin and Natalie don’t know about the bad things yet. They’re naive, still. But Ciara...she’s hurting Lydia, and Luna hates it.

She tries so hard not to hate anything, because Mummy always said it was a waste of energy that could be happy and light. But can she hate someone if they’re bad? What if it seems that person doesn’t have a good bone in her body? Is Luna allowed to hate them then?

Because Luna thinks she hates Ciara for making Lydia so scared and jumpy and not like a person. She hates Ciara, even if hate is a bad thing to feel.

* * *

Late nights secluded from everyone else in the Gryffindor common room were Lydia’s favorite. She liked to watch everyone else interact, see the stolen glances and hear roaring laughs. Maybe it would make others feel lonely, but not Lydia. 

She had been watching from her near corner armchair so intently that she didn’t notice the twin standing behind her.

“Princess-”

On instinct, she swung her fist back, immediately gasping out an apology.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Freddie. God, I was so lost in thought, and you scared me. Are you okay?”

Fred grinned at her through the pain. 

“Dandy! What has you so in thought that you didn’t notice me gracing you with my presence?”

She snorted, scooting over so he could sit beside her. “I…” 

She brought her hand up to scratch at the pink scar on her cheek, as Fred knew she did when thinking particularly hard on something. He reached his hand over, and her fingers focused on scratching his palm instead. He had to fight against the tickling feeling.

“Do I get to guess?”

She shook her head, smiling faintly. 

“No, just thinking about something I dreamt last night.” 

She ran her tongue between the split in her front teeth. 

“What was the dream?”

She swallowed.

“Just something that happened when I was a kid. Did your dad teach you how to swim?”

“Yeah, of course. Didn’t yours?”

“Not really. I mean, my grandmother threw me into a lake once but I didn’t learn how to swim. I just choked on the water.”

“She just threw you in?”

He sounded horrified, which was justified. 

“It was more her trying to get me out of her way than anything. It’s why I was so nervous when you taught me that one summer. Remember that?”

“Of course I remember. You taught us to plait so our hair would crimp. But why would she be trying to get you out of her way like that? Seems rather aggressive.”

Lydia shrugged and laid her head on Fred’s shoulder. 

“Hey Fred?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t think I’m some sort of...I don’t know.”

“Some sort of what?”

She gave a silent sigh.

“A freak? I mean, no yeah that’s what I mean.”

He tensed just slightly.

“Why would you think that?”

She shrugged silently, so he turned her head to face his. 

“Look at me.”

Bringing her eyes away from the middle of the common room, where Twister was being played, to look at him, she saw his glare and looked away again.

It took him a few moments to understand why she looked so tense and uncomfortable and then he swore. 

“Shit, no. Hey, I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with whoever called you a freak. Come on, look at me again, Princess.”

She let out a shaky breath and looked at him again.

“Who called you a freak?”

“Multiple people. More recently, some Ravenclaw.”

“Which one? There’s like hundreds of them.”

She shrugged, and Fred sighed as he realized she wasn’t going to tell.

“You said there were others?”   
She bit her lip, her hand reaching up to scratch at the scar again.

“My dad and most of his family. They’re not accepting as you can imagine.”

He let out a quiet grunt. 

“Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

“Lay down for me. Your head in my lap.”

“Why?”

“Please.”

She sighed, but turned so she was curled up in the cramped chair, her head resting on Fred’s lap. He started to gently run his fingers through her hair, starting at the ends of her ponytail and going up to her scalp. She fell asleep, not really noticing Angelina carrying her into her bed.

What Lydia hadn’t mentioned about her dream was that the water was full of numbers Ciara had made her memorize, for each food that had too many calories for the girl’s liking. Lydia didn’t want to think on it too much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Loves!! This chapter took forever to write, and it feels a little lackluster. Did you enjoy?   
> Notes!  
> -Lydia’s learning she can’t do things without consequences and she can’t change that!! Character development!! 
> 
> -I want to clarify that at this point on, Sirius will be referred to a Simon, but he’s the same person (just looks different). Harry is going to slip up, as will Remus when he’s let in on the secret. They slip up because they’ve not had practice with his new name, but he’s called Simon. Also, Lydia is looking at this rather detached, because that’s how she was raised. She feels really conflicted and is confused about it. I didn’t cover that much in this chapter, but that will continue. 
> 
> -haha Neville’s a bit jealous of Ciara. But don’t worry, she doesn’t stay long! She sucks!! No one really likes her tbh. 
> 
> -okay so summary for the bit about food: Basically, Ciara is critical of how much Lydia eats, reminding her how many calories certain foods have. Ginny abhors this. 
> 
> words: 3855  
> Next Week: A chapter all about Ciara Pritt (sorry Lydia)


	6. "How can you stand her?"

Lydia is avoiding her weekly visits with Mam again. She knows the things Ciara’s been ~~forcing~~ suggesting she change have affected her, and if Mam notices (which she will) then Lydia will be in trouble. But really, it’s not like things are so bad. With the extra free time in her week, Lydia is spending even more time with Ciara. They’re nearly always together. It’s...tiring.

She likes Ciara, she does, and she enjoys their time together. It’s just that Lydia needs time alone, to decompress. Her friends have always understood that, but Ciara doesn’t. And they say you have to make sacrifices in a relationship, so Lydia’s making hers. Ciara should be all she needs, she knows that. It’s just difficult, not seeing her friends. Lydia knows they probably hate her, though, just like Ciara’s said. But it’s okay, because Ciara loves her.

She’s just really missing them, and she wants to go see Mam,  _ so badly _ .

“Bunny, what’s on your mind?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing much, Ci. I’ve just got some essays to -”

“You would look so beautiful with your hair down.”

“Oh, thanks. But I like my hair out of my face.”

Ciara pouted, and reached her hand out to tug on the scrunchie in Lydia’s hair.

“ _ Hey _ ,” Lydia snapped, batting Ciara’s hand away, “Leave it, Ci, it’s not your hair.”

Ciara huffed dramatically.

“I thought I was your girlfriend! You’re supposed to please me.”

“You can’t be pleased, I do whatever you say, and you’re never pleased. Just...let me have this one thing, alright?”

Ciara huffed again, and pulled nail varnish out of her bag.

“Nails, I’m going to paint them.”

Reaching out her nondominant hand, Lydia began to write her Charms essay. She’d been trying harder than usual to hand in perfect work, so Professor Flitwick didn’t ask her to stay behind and get a chance to see her up close. If he did, then she might burst out all her feelings, and she’d be in trouble if that happened.

Lyda tries not to complain, no matter how frustrating Ciara could be. She was nice, too, sometimes. It was just hard to remember when she was mean.

A few moments passed in which the empty classroom they sit in is silent, save for the sound of Lydia’s quill and Ciara reciting music lyrics under her breath.

Then, a knock sounds at the door.

Natalie walks in after a moment, and smiles at Lydia.

Glancing over her, Lydia can't help noticing the pigtails Natalie usually puts her hair in are mussed up and frizzy.

“Hey, Natty, what’s up?”

Glancing wearily behind Lydia to where Ciara sits, Natalie darts forward to hug Lydia.

“Hi! Um, our friends are getting together at Hogsmeade tomorrow, and I know you haven’t been hanging out with us much, but will you come?’

Without even thinking about it, Lyda agrees.

“Of course, lovebug. What time are we meeting up?”

Ciara tries to interrupt, “Wait but we-”

“We’ll meet before breakfast in the common room!”” Natalie yells in an attempt to drown out Ciara’s voice. “Oh, thank you, thank you! I’m so excited.”

Natalie hugs her again, then darts out of the room.

Once the door has swung shut, Ciara tugs harshly on Lydia’s school tie.

Choking a little, Lydia glared.

“What?”

Ciara lets out a dramatic sigh, as if she doesn’t know Lydia at all.

“Why did you agree without asking me?! You know we have plans-”

“What plans, Ciara? All we ever do is sit in this stupid dusty room and you tell me what I’m doing wrong and what you’re excelling at! I want to have a day with my friends. Come with or don’t, but I’m going.”

Lydia started to gather her things, and Ciara said nothing until she was pulling her bag onto a shoulder.

“You’re nothing without me. Would just embarrass yourself if I weren’t around to help. You’ve noticed those twins of yours being distant, haven’t you? I'm just trying to fix you for them, so they don’t leave you like your dad.”

She needed to blink away annoying tears before she could reply, and when she did it was with a quiet, “I know. See you later.”

Ciara dropped a kiss to Lydia’s cheek.

“Have a nice night, Bunny!”

The next morning, just before breakfast, Lydia was sat in the common room, dressed and reading a book. This one was about Eldred Worple’s experience living amongst vampires, and it was actually interesting and unbiased, unlike most other books she’d found about vampires.

Luna and Ginny came down, the former wide awake while the latter looked like she’d gotten caught in a tornado.

“Lydia, are you coming with us?’

Lydia nodded at Luna, smiling when she was given a hug.

“Yeah, Ci’s angry but fuck her.”

Ginny frowned, perking up a bit.

“Why’s Prat angry? You're allowed to spend time with your friends.”

“Her name’s  _ Pritt _ , Ginny. And she’s angry because she wanted to have me to herself today. I told her she’s been hogging me too much, though, and she has. I miss my favorite group of ducklings.”

Ginny snuggled into Lydia’s side with a sigh.

“We’ve missed you two, you know. Why do you let Ciara make all your decisions. You didn't listen to anybody before.”

With a snort, Lydia rested her head atop Ginny’s.

“I don’t let her tell me what to do about  _ everything, _ just small things. She likes to make decisions, it makes her happy. And who am I to deny my girlfriend?”

Surprisingly serious, Luna said, “You can tell her no, sometimes.” 

Lydia shrugged. 

“Yeah, but you know what they say. A happy wife is a happy life.”

Ginny suddenly balked at her. 

“You’re sixteen! Don’t tell me you plan to marry her!”

“I mean, not for a long while, no. But maybe one day. Isn’t that the purpose of dating, to find the person you wanna be with?”

They didn’t get to argue it any further because the rest of their Gryffindor friends came down, each clad in their winter things to keep warm.

Natalie skipped over, dragging Colin behind her, and grabbed Lydia’s hand.

“Lydia, you came! Come on, George said he’ll sneak me in through his backpack!”

Lydia managed to slink towards the back of the group, letting Rhys, Daichi, Ginny, Luna, Colin, and Natalie run ahead of her. Finally she came to walk between Fred and Neville.

“Hey.”

Neville smiled and grabbed for her left hand.

“Hi there, Dia. How’s it going?”

She shrugged, squeezing his hand back.

“Well, I’m here with y’all, so better. Doing alright?”

“Like you said, better now.”

He sped up his walk, letting go of her hand and catching up to walk beside Daichi and Rhys.

Lydia fidgeted with her hands for a few steps, before blurting, “I’m sorry.”

The twins actually turned to look at her, both confused.

“What’re you on about?” George asked, stalling his walk.

She reached a hand back to tug her ponytail tighter.

“I'm not thick, I know you’re angry with me. Is it - is it about the Padfoot thing?

Fred rolled his eyes.

“You are thick. It’s not him, it’s the fact you apparently don’t want to be our friend and didn't bother telling us!”   
This time she really stopped.

“I  _ what?!  _ No, never. I - where did you even get that idea?”

They pulled her along to walk again, and Fred answered, “What wouldn’t give us the idea? You’ve barely spoken with us since you’ve become infatuated with that Ciara girl, you’re never around.”

She shook her head rapidly.

“No, no you’re all wrong! I haven’t been around because...well, because Ciara doesn’t like me to. But I want to be around, I do! I just...I thought y’all hated me.”

“What gave you that stupid idea?”

She looked up at George with a bitter laugh.

“Ciara! That’s why ‘ve been with her so much, she’s helping me be better.”

They both frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Princess, none of us hate you. We’ve missed you, we thought you hated us.”

She groaned.

“God, I’ve made such a mess of things, haven’t I?”

Before they could say more, Lydia felt someone tack;le her, and she shrieked.

When she smelled expensive lavender perfume, she sighed.

“Ciara, I’ve  _ asked you _ not to jump on my back!”

Ciara laughed as she slid off of Lydia.

“Yeah, right, Bunny. I’m coming along.”

Lydia turned to look at Ciara incredulously.

“Since when? And why? You were so angry-”

“I’m coming to spend time with you, silly! I can’t let my bunny walk around on her own.”

Lydia bit the inside of her cheeks, biting harder when Fred said, “She can walk on her own. You weren’t invited.”

Ciara brushed him off with barely a glance, and gripped Lydia’s hand.

“Where are we going?”

“The Broomsticks, I think. And some shopping.”

Ciara smiled.

“Ooh, the Broomsticks! Fun. You’ll buy me something, won’t you?”

“I really don’t have the-”

“Oh, right. You’re  _ poor _ . I’ll pay, and you can make it up to me.”

Lydia bit her lip.

“Yeah...okay.”

Fred was still angry with Lydia, but he was beginning to think the problem wasn’t her liking Ciara Pritt more than their friends. Their conversation - before being interrupted - had raised major alarm bells in his head. He knew George felt the same, because duh they shared a mind, and he was concerned too. This wouldn’t have been enough to seriously scare them, were it not for their lunch break at the Broomsticks.

The eleven of them had squeezed into a booth, and Rosmerta had brought them butterbeers and sandwiches, with a couple fatty sweets for each of them.

Lydia had excitedly dug into her donut after finishing her sandwich, a sparkly thing with some sort of red jelly oozing out the sides.

Out of seemingly nowhere, Ciara huffed.

“Do you ever listen?!”

Lydia frowned in what looked genuine confusion.

“Ci, what-”

“You’re such a disappointment! I try and try, but it’s no wonder you’ve got to spend holidays with a family other than your own!”

Ginny looked absolutely livid.

“Now hold on, you-”

Ciara continued, despite their attempts to shut her up.

“What family would want you, you can’t even follow a simple direction! I told you sweets like this were off limits. Why don’t you listen?”

“I -”

“Look at you, can't even defend yourself! Everyone thinks Lydia McBrien is tough, unbreakable. But I’m going to break you, like the useless mudblood you are.”

Suddenly Rosmerta was there, wand dangling at her side and ready if needed.

“Language like that is not allowed, girly! Get out!”

She waved over a box of breadsticks with her wand. “Apologies, have these, free of charge.”

Lydia actually looks broken, like Ciara had said would happen. She doesn’t defend herself, or try to make a joke out of it. She waves off Luna when the girl tries to pass her a breadstick, and simply sinks down a bit in her seat. 

Fred knows he has to do something, just doesn’t know what. Surely Lydia will break up with Ciara though, and they'll play a revenge prank. Yes everything will be fine.

* * *

Lydia wasn’t fine. She really  _ had  _ planned to tell Ciara off for what she had said in the Broomsticks, but when she had tried she chickened out. 

It’s not like she was that scared of Ciara, either. She knew it would be easy to defend herself if needed. She was  _ not  _ broken down, whatever Ciara said. She just...she was tired. She didn’t want to waste energy on defending herself. 

By the time a week had passed, Ciara was once again perfectly happy and had seemingly forgotten the whole incident. They spent Valentine’s day together, in that same unused classroom they spent all of their free time in. 

Lydia studied, as she always did in this room, and Ciara sang lyrics to different songs she liked. 

Suddenly, Ciara put a hand on Lydia’s arm. 

“Bunny.”

“Hm?”

Ciara huffed. 

“ _ Bunny, _ look at me!”

Lydia slowly dragged her focus away from the potions text she had been studying, and looked to Ciara.

She had moved closer at some point, and they now sat knee to knee. 

“What’s up, Ci?”

Ciara slid her hand from Lydia’s elbow to her wrist and clasped their hands together. 

“You should sleep in my dorm tonight.”

“What? No, I’m sleeping in mine, with my friends.”

Ciara glared, and squeezed Lydia's wrist so hard she winced. 

“That’s not fair! Is that Longbottom boy going to be there?”

“Maybe, probably. Why do you care? You spend time with  _ your  _ friends.”

“Because he fancies you, idiot girl! He’s going to steal you from me, and no one gets to have you except me.”

Lydia snorted.

“Possessive much? Look, Ci, it’s just the same sleepover we’ve been having since we were eleven. Chill.”

Ciara glared harder, then demanded, “Kiss me, then. Prove you love me.”

“Not right now, Ciara. I’m not in the mood.”

Ciara suddenly jerked Lydia's wrist, bringing Lydia toward her. 

She planted a kiss on Lydia’s lips.

Lydia shoved her away angrily. 

“What the hell?! Fuck off, I said no!”

Gathering her things, Lydia held her wand in the wrist that wasn’t currently throbbing. 

_ “Colovaria!” _

Ciara’s hands went to her hair. 

“What did you do?!”

Lydia gave her a one fingered gesture and stalked off, chuckling at the sight of hufflepuff colors on Ciara’s normally perfect hair. 

Lydia leaves for the library after that, hoping her usual study group would be there. Entering and sending a quick wave to Madam Pince, she spotted them at their usual table, an empty seat beside Padma.

Awkwardly slipping into it, she whispered, “May I study with y’all?”

Terry gestured flippantly with his hand.

“Studying  _ is  _ what a study group is for.”

Heidi silently passed over her bucket of ice chips, and Lydia popped one into her mouth.

A few minutes into her potions text, Padma nudged her forearm gently.

“Haven’t seen you our past few sessions, what’s up?”

Lydia shrugged.

“Ciara doesn’t like me to leave her alone often, she gets lonely.”

Padma scoffed.

“Not Ciara Pritt? Merlin, how can you stand her?”

Heidi nodded, and Terry added, “Even coming from a musical theater nerd, she’s dramatic. And that’s saying something.”

Padma snorted.

“If Terry says someone’s dramatic, you know for certain they are. I mean, he’s basically the king of dramatics.”

“You know what, I’m not even offended. I’m flattered.”

Padma rolled her eyes at him and asked seriously, “How can you stand her? She’s spoilt rotten and it shows. She once threw a fit in the common room because the Head Girl of that year asked her to do her assignments. A full on, head bashing the floor, fit!”

Lydia couldn’t even muster up the energy to defend her girlfriend, like she should. Instead, she shrugged.

“I don’t know, sometimes. I think it takes a special kind of person to like her.”

“Yeah, a doormat,” Padma whispered bitterly.

Heidi added, “Are you sure you’re that person, though? I mean, word is you’ve barely spent time with anyone besides meals and lessons. Not healthy, love.”

Lydia didn’t respond, but she really thought about it.

Was she the person Ciara needed? Surely she could be, if she tried hard enough.

Lydia honestly just wants to sleep the rest of the day away, instead of going with the rest of her year and the upper years to the secret Valentine’s Day Ball. She knows she’ll regret it, but Lydias has been pulling herself every which way to please Ciara, and she’s like a string – if you pull hard enough they always break. 

This is why, after bidding her Ravenclaw study group goodbye, Lydia heads to Gryffindor Tower with the intent to nap, and hopefully fall asleep through tomorrow morning. 

This is completely unrealistic, she realizes, when George meets her at the portrait.

“Lydia, excited for tonight?”

She holds back the urge to groan. It's not his fault she’s tired.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m tired though, I might just-”

“Take a nap? Great idea! You can come up to the dorm, Lee, Freddie, and the girls are napping too. It’s a good idea to, with how late we’ll be up.”

She heaves a silent sigh as he grasps her hand and leads her up the stairs to his dorm.

When they enter, the boys and girls of the Quidditch team are indeed napping, and she idles in the doorway, feeling much too unsure for the room she’s in. She’s spent more time here than her own dorm, but it feels so foreign suddenly. All of Hogwarts has felt foreign since Ciara.

George digs underneath his bed, and fishes out a handful of clothing.

“Here,” he says, handing the clothes to her, “you can change into these.”

She stares at him for a moment and takes them.

Unfolding them, she sees there’s a white tank with Lee’s name stitched in the tag, a pair of red joggers, and an extra hair tie.

“Wait, but-”

George smiles at her.

“I know you plait your hair at night, so that’s one of Katie’s ties for you. She’s always leaving them around, so we’ve got a stash in here. The joggers are mine, you can keep them if they fit. The tank is Lee’s, but don’t tell him you got it from me.” After an awkward moment, he turned around. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just get the bed ready.”

She quickly changes, wishing the silence weren’t so awkward.

When she’s done, she waves her wand in a gentle arc and Elvis begins to play, quiet enough that it won’t wake anyone, but loud enough it will help her sleep.

He climbs beneath the covers then, and holds the top quilt open.

“Here, climb in.”

She does, and it’s not long before she’s asleep.

She hopes to sleep through the night, and with George holding her she just might have a chance.

“Princess, wake up. You’re going to miss the party!”

She groans, and buries herself further into the pillow holding.

Someone shakes her, and tries to pull at her wrist.

“Woah, don’t-”

Purely on instinct, Lydia kicks her foot out.

Kenneth yelps and a thud breaks the sudden silence as he hits the floor.

“...do that.,” finishes Lee, sighing and sitting next to her on the bed. “Lydia, time to wake up. You don’t want to miss the party and dance, do you?”

She sighs, and opens her yes, shielding them from the lamps.

“Why is Kenneth Towler watching me sleep?”

From the floor, Kenneth sputtered something unintelligible out.

Angelina had a blue dress on, and was securing one of her braids in a half updo with some pins. She reached a hand down to help him to his feet.

“Because Kenneth Towler doesn’t know what to do when pretty girls sleep in his dorm. Lydia, why don’t we go get you dressed, hm? Ginny told me all about your gorgeous dress.”

Lydia heaved a sigh.

“But Parvati and Lavender always try to put makeup on my scar!”

Alicia grabbed Lydia’s hands and gently pulled her to her feet.

“Then come to our dorm, Katie’ll fetch your dress and hair products. Any makeup you want you'll borrow from us, alright?”

Begrudgingly, Lydia let herself be taken out of the boys’ dorm, and across to ALicia and Angie’s.

Katie walked in a few minutes later with Ginny, who was also in a dress.

“Why did your mum even buy you a dress for a dance you can’t go to?” Lydia asked.

Ginny shrugged and gave a twirl. The purple dress flared out.

“Preparation for next year? I dunno. I want to sneak in with you, but Luna said not to.”

Katie rinned.

“Don’t worry, Ginny. You’ll go next year, and it’ll be just as fun. Tonight, you can sneak out with Luna and have your own dance, just you two.”

Pouting, Giny sighed, “Dean's going to be gone, what if he kisses another girl?”

Lydia blinked in confusion, then demanded, “You’re with him?!”

Snorting, Katie nodded. 

“Get with the program, Lydia, she has been for months.”

Lydia groaned silently, and grabbed the dress from Katie. Taking off her other clothes and pulling it over her head, she asked, “What’s that like? Oh, will you zip me up, Katie?”

As Ginny prattled on about how attractive and nice Dean was, Lydia did her hair up and curled a few loose pieces, put on lipgloss, and borrowed a pair of Alicia’s flats. When she finished, she looked at herself in Angelina’s mirror.

She’d rather not go at all, but at least she looked pretty. She had bought a blue-ish-purple dress with glitter all over, and no sleeves. When she twirled, glitter fell off and disappeared before it hit the ground. The flats were comfortable, but still looked nice, and her hair didn’t bother her face too much.

Katie grabbed Alicia’s arm with one hand, grabbing Lyda’s with the other.

“Ready?”

They were guided by the seventh years to the entrance hall, and they lined up excitedly to be checked out of the school by their Heads of House. Standing between Katie and George, Lydia could feel excited jitters begin to erupt in her stomach.

Professor McGonagall came over and looked them over.

“Weasley, McBrien, Bell...Go on, you’ll be with the Ravenclaws for the night.  _ Behave. _ ”

Snickering, George led them over to the Ravenclaws all clustered around Professor Flitwick.

Padma suddenly spotted them and rushed over with a grin on her face.

“Oh, Lydia, you look lovely! Like my sari? Amma sent it just for this! Oh, it’s so pretty!”

Lydia smiled at her.

“Yeah, it’s such a lovely blue, Parvati! You look beautiful.”

“I’ll say the same for you! I bet Pritt’s excited to see you.”

Lydia gave a disinterested hum

“I dunno, haven’t seen her. Anyway, has Professor Flitwick told you anything about this?’

Parvati shook her head.

“He should have, he knows how curious us Ravens are! But I suppose we’ll find out soon, yeah? Ooh, here he comes.”

Lydia looked up too late.

“What - oh no, I don’t want to - ah, shit.”

“Lydia, Miss Patil! How wonderful to see you tonight! Are you girls excited?”

Parvati beamed enthusiastically, but Lydia was too focused on not looking in his eyes to do more than grimace.

“Lydia, are you alright? You look ill.”

Lydia nodded.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Great, even! But uh, you have other students so...bye!”

Like a coward, Lydia ran and hid behind Fred and George until Professor Sprout announced they would be leaving.

The way they were apparated off school grounds and into the Scottish Highlands had to be dangerous. Lydia knew side-alonging just  _ two _ people at once was dangerous, so she understood having Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick take them all one by one would waste time. But still, having the seventh years take the younger years was dangerous, right? But, she had to concede, second years were allowed to play Quidditch without a permission slip, so Hogwarts just really did not care about safety.

She was paired with Angelina, which made her feel safer. When they landed on one of the many hills of the Scottish highlands, Angelina helped her stay standing while Lydia’s legs wobbled beneath her.

“Alright? I know it doesn’t get any easier.”

Lydia gave her a thumbs up.

“Always sucks.” She looked around and noticed there weren’t even decorations. “Why’s it so plain? I thought it was a dance.”

Angelina winked.

“It gets more exciting, I promise. We only Apparate here, it’s not our final destination. We’ll be doing quite a bit of walking, though, so stay by me.”

And quite a bit of walking, they did. Just when Lydia was ready to give up on her feet and ask Angelina to carry her, Professor Sprout called, “Everyone listen and repeat after me... _ Dannsa! _ ”

In a jumbled mess that was supposed to be synchronised, the seventy some of them all yelled, “Dannsa!”

A large - and she means  _ large _ \- house appeared before their eyes. 

It was almost the size of a manor, with four stories and at least eighty windows on the front of the house. 

Angelina grabbed her hand tighter in excitement and began dragging her inside, where everyone sat on the floor and various furniture in a sitting room. 

Professor Flitwick words on top of a coffee table to be seen. 

“Students! A fair few of you have not experienced tonight’s event, and for you I shall explain. As for you older years, listen! You may need a refresher.

“Professor Sprout and myself will remain here, in this house we have rented from the Bones family. Amelia Bones, though you might know her better as an Auror, has graciously given us free reign of the manor and property for the night. Treat it with respect!

“Professor Sprout and I run things differently than Professors Snape and McGonagall. We will be putting your care in the hands of the seventh and sixth years, and remain here. We do this to foster trust and responsibility. If you wish to remain with us, we will be playing games and singing songs.

“You are allowed to explore the nearby village, and we will be collecting your wands before doing so. With that, everyone grab a snack from the kitchen-”

Professor Sprout interrupted, “And an herb pouch! They will be in your snack bags, all in the kitchen! Just take a left at the end of the hall here, by the clock. Have a good night, and stick with a mate!”

They all paired off, and Ciara caught up to Lydia as she exited the door with the twins, Lee, Alicia, Katie, and Angie. 

“Bunny, you look...ravishing.”

Though normally not one to, Lee snarled at her. 

“She’s  _ underage _ , Pritt! Don’t say that sort of thing!”

Ciara rolled her eyes. 

“Barely. A few months and she’s mine, isn’t that right, Bunny? We’ll move in together.”

Lydia had no idea what she was talking about. 

“I-what?”

Katie spoke over her with a tense, “O _ kay!  _ Let’s table this for later, hm? Alicia and I are off to find a nice bush to snog behind. See you lot later!”

Shrieking with laughter, Alicia ran off with Katie. 

Angelina frowned as Lee said, “Sound nice, Ang?”

“No, I imagine the bush would be bristly. Very awful.”

Grinning, George nudged Lydia's shoulder.

“I’m going to go ogle some Muggle girls, want to come?”

“Bunny’s taken, thank you!” Ciara huffed, grabbing Lydia’s waist roughly. “Come on, let’s go steal some snacks.”

“No, I don’t want to steal! And loosen your grip, my hips hurt.”

Rolling her eyes, Ciara sighed. 

“Then what do  _ you  _ suggest we do?”

Fred grabbed onto Ciara’s hand and pried it off of Lydia. 

“She said to let go, Pritt. Learn to listen rather than talking so much.”

George continued, “As the designated adults here, we’re going to stargaze. There’s a nice hill up this way at the edge of the village.”

Lee and Angelina began to lead, leaving the twins to bring up the group’s rear behind Ciara and Lydia. 

Fred isn’t sure when Lydia and Pritt had gotten separated from them. One minute he was complaining to George about the latter’s grip on Lydia’s wrist, the next neither were seen. 

But, he supposed, they were teenagers and teenagers snuck off to song sometimes. It was fine, Lydia could protect herself. 

“But should she have to?” 

Fred sighed in response to his twin. 

“No, but she will if we don’t end up finding her. Besides, what’ll happen?”

George snorted, and Lee turned around, but didn’t ask. 

“You’re really testing Fate, are you now?”

In the distance there was yelling, and Angelina turned toward the noise. 

“Should we go check on that? It sounds-”

“It sounds,” interrupted Lee, “like teenagers having their first Highlands-Valentine’s. It’s fine. Now come on, we’re almost to the hill.”

“It’s all hills!”

They hadn’t gotten ten more steps before suddenly Lydia was by their side again, grabbing into Fred’s hand. 

“Hi.” 

Her voice was scratchy and quiet. 

George leaned down slightly to look her in the face. 

“You were crying. Why?”

“Shut up, I don’t wanna talk about it.” She hissed, glancing back towards the woods. “Are we almost there?”

Glancing back at them, Lee asked, “Where’s Pritt? I thought she was coming with us.”

Raising her voice just enough he could hear, Lydia said, “Changed her mind.”

Fred stopped Lydia from walking so he could pick her up, and began to carry her bridal style. Her dress drifted in the wind as he walked, glitter falling. 

Lydia tucked her face into the crook of his arm.

George gently laid a hand on her head, brushing through her tied up hair with his fingers. 

When she looked up, black makeup was smeared beneath her eyes and tears were still building in her eyes with every blink. 

“What’s wrong, Princess?”

Sniffling, she whispered, “I’m tired of being broken.”

“You aren’t-”

“Stop lying! I’ve always been broken, I’m broken now, and I always will be. Why do y’all even bother? God, she’s right, I’m just a waste of resources.”

There was a moment of silence, then Lee yelled, “I’m going to kill that girl, she had no right - give me your knife. I know you brought one, give me it. I haven’t got a wand.”

Lydia’s hand went to her ankle, and she shook her head. 

George put his hand over hers as an extra protection, because Lee looked feral. 

Angelina grabbed onto Lee’s chest from behind, grunting out, “Lee Angelio Jordan! You will not kill on Lydia’s behalf! It is  _ rude! _ ”

“It’s rude to make Lydia cry!”

“If Fred and George can restrain themselves why can’t you?!”

George raised his hand. 

“To be fair, I’m only here to make sure Lee doesn’t get the first hit. And Fred’s only here because he’s holding Lydia.”

“If anyone gets the first hit it’s me!” yelled Lydia, before sighing, “I’m not hurting her. Just...drop it.”

Fred shifted a hand out from under her so he could wipe at the makeup on her cheeks. 

“We’ll drop it on one condition.”

“What?”

“You must stay with us the rest of tonight. No going to see Ciara.”

Lydia nodded. 

“I don’t wanna see her anyway. Can we dance when we get there?”

George smiled at her. 

“Did you really think we’d have taken you to a hill under the brightest stars and  _ not  _ dance? Tsk tsk, Lydia. You don’t know us at all.”

They did dance. 

Angelina had brought their record player from the boys’ dorm, and their favorite records, and set it all up on a blanket with their snacks from the manor. 

They had taken their shoes off, and one by one danced together in the grass, beneath the stars. 

It was the most alive Lydia had felt all month. 

* * *

Ciara isn’t a good person, Luna can tell. There’s a sort of feeling that sticks around Ciara, and lingers on those around her too much. It feels like fear and something dark. If it had a color, Luna thinks it would be an orange mixed with grey. 

(Luna isn’t about color shaming, to be clear. It’s just an alarming color, is all.)

As an example, Luna thinks of what Lydia’s color used to be. It was a dark purple, with little dots of blue and yellow splattered around. It was so pretty!

But now Ciara’s color has tainted Lydia’s, and it hurts to look at. The longer Ciara stays around Lydia. the worse the color gets, and Luna’s scared. SHe tries not to be, but she is.

They’re all sitting at lunch, Lydia on the end with Ciara rather than between Fred and George as she ought to be, when Ciara suddenly grabs Lydia’s chin and kisses her.

A few of the Gryffindors near them let out whistles and laughs, and no one seems to notice how uncomfortable Lydia’s gotten.

She pulls away, her entire face flushing, and it only increases when Fred starts to tease her by whistling and starting a cheer. Luna’s confused why he does it, because he doesn’t like Ciara. None of their friends do, actually. They’ve all, save for Colin and Natalie, shared their suspicions and worries about the girl. 

In the commotion, Lydia gets off the bench and begins to leave, doing a casual sort of run.

Luna nudges Ginny to move so she can stand, and Ginny grimaces at her.

“Let me know if I need to come. Broomstick charm, remember.”

Luna drops a squeeze to Ginny’s arm, and ignores her own blush. Now is not the time to be crushing on her friend!

When she finds the loo Lydia’s in, she hears retching, and sighs silently. Lydia hadn’t even bothered to close the stall door in her rush, so it’s easy for Luna to drop down beside her on the dirty floor.

She begins to rub her back, and hums.

When the retching stops, Luna cleans off Lydia’s pale face with tissue from the stall.

“You’re okay, just breathe.”

Lydia nods rapidly. “Yeah, ‘m okay, ‘m okay.”

Luna looks her seriously in the eyes, still teary from the retching and panic afterwards.

“Listen to me, Lydia. You need to get away from Ciara. She’s hurting you, can’t you see?”

For the first time in her life, Lydia disregards Luna’s warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H, loves! If you follow my tumblr, you'll have seen the post i made saying i wasn't posting last week. (https://wizardrywilting.tumblr.com/post/637585048550440960/no-post-this-week-apologies-ive-gotten-very) Long story short, life is difficult!!! To make up for lateness, I'm putting out a new part of this series, no update schedule for that one. It’s about the multiverse!!  
> notes:  
> -this is a dark one, folks!! Ciara sucks, but Lydia's starting to realize that. now she just needs to tell her to fuck off.  
> -her friends are also beginning to realize Ciara ain't shit, and they're trying to help!! yay!!
> 
> words: 5580
> 
> Next Week: Umbridge makes a more obvious presence in Lydia's life, giving us a break from Pritt the Prat!


	7. I will be a decent fucking human being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood quill, injury description, controlling relationship mentioned, mentioned weight loss/gaining

Since that last fight in the woods with Ciara (which Lydia will NOT be thinking about, thank you very much!) Lydia’s been given more freedom. Well, it’s not so much given as it is taken. Lydia likes to think of it like digging her nails in and ripping her freedom back from Ciara’s clutches. Though it’s a process, she’s certain she’ll get it back one day. 

The point is, Lydia walks around a lot more on her own, which she can feel doing wonders for her spirits. Not to mention, she manages to sneak off to the kitchens, and she can tell all the snacking is doing wonders for the weight she had lost through Ciara’s meddling. She hopes to gain it back fast enough to see Mam again. She’s tired of all the secret keeping.

She’s on one of these walks, alone, when she turns down the corridor to the third floor, a pile of books in her hands from the library. At the very end of the corridor just a few paces from the charms classroom, stands Umbridge. She towers over a terrified looking Ravenclaw, who’s laying on her back on the stone flooring.

She doesn’t try to listen to the yelling Umbridge’s doing, she just sends a silent disarming spell at the woman’s wand.

Umbridge gasps, a dramatic sound, and her beady eyes snap to Lydia.

“What do you think you’re doing?! Return my wand at once you little -”

“Little _what_ , Professor? Finish your sentences, it’s improper to leave them hanging.”

Umbridge glares, and pastes on a sickly smile.

“Oh, dearie, you wouldn't know proper if I sat you down and explained it! Now, my wand.”

“Step away from the kid.”

Umbridge glanced back to the Ravenclaw, who had tried to slip away.

“Back to the floor, Miss Evergreen!” Turning to Lydia, Umbridge hissed, “Drop my wand, McBrien, before I assign you more than one detention.”

“Let the kid go, and you can have it.”

“Why, do you believe I would harm a student? No, no! Of course not, I’m simply speaking with her. DROP MY WAND!”

Startled by the outburst, Lydia did drop the wand. Before it rolled away, Lydia stomped on it. It splintered just the tiniest bit. Not enough to render it useless, just enough that sparks flew out from under Lydia’s sneaker.

“Let go of the kid’s hand, Professor, and we can forget this. Don’t make me scream.”

“And what will that do, dearie? Your mum and dad aren’t here.”

“Yes, they are. In fact, my dad’s in that classroom. Now drop her hand!”

Umbridge gripped the Ravenclaw’s wrist tighter, and the girl whimpered.

Lydia had enough.

“PROFESSOR! HELP!”

The door to the charms classroom opened not a second later, and suddenly Professor Flitwick was in front of her.

“Lydia, what-?”

She pointed to Umbridge, who had frozen at the sight of Professor Flitwick actually answering Lydia’s call.

Professor Flitwick’s eyes went from Lydia’s face, to Umbridge, to the little Ravenclaw, to Lydia’s feet. He looked back to Umbridge, and the expression on his face was murderous _._

“Dolores, why are you causing my student pain?” His voice was dangerously quiet, all the usual cheer gone.

Umbridge dropped the girl, who scurried as far from Umbridge as possibly, and over to Lydia. She helped the girl up by the elbow of her hurt wrist, and cradled her behind both professors. 

There was a moment that Lydia barely held her breath when, as if the world had slowed, Umbridge leapt at Lydia and the Ravenclaw. Shoving the girl behind her, Lydia fell to the ground, pinned by Umbridge.

“GET OFF YOU-”

Umbridge was suddenly flung off of Lydia, but she was back on her feet a moment later, this time her splintered wand clenched in a fat fist.

The Ravenclaw screamed in fright, and Lydia moved them away from the cacophony of spells Umbridge and Professor Flitwick began flinging at each other.

Lyda shielded both their eyes from the many colors of spells the two professors were casting, but she didn’t need her eyes to tell her they weren’t friendly.

Suddenly a cloud of smoke shot out of Professor Flitwick's wand, sending Umbridge screeching and running from the corridor.

When he was sure she wasn’t going to come back for a second round, Professor Flitwick turned to Lydia and the girl again.

“Come, my office.”

He seemed to know Lydia didn’t want to visit the Hospital Wing, because he added, “My house elf, Penny, will heal any nicks you girls may have gotten. Are you alright otherwise?”

The Ravenclaw held up her hand, and Lydia nearly gagged at the way it flopped over.

“She’ll fix that too.”

When they got to his office, Lydia sat in her favorite bean bag chair, and the Ravenclaw had situated herself in Lydia’s lap, trembling. Lydia hadn’t objected.

“Please, explain what just happened,” Professor Flitwick sighed, looking at Lydia. “It’s not everyday I hear a student screaming for my help and nearly duel the High Inquisitor.”

Lydia snorted at the title, but when he sent her a stern look, she quieted.

“I just saw her holding...sorry, what’s your name?”

The girl in her lap whispered, “Maeve Evergreen. I’m really sorry for getting you in trouble! I should’ve just taken it.”

Before Professor Flitwick could, Lydia gave a vehement denial.

“No way, it’s not your fault! You’re a little baby, it’s her fault she’s such a bint!”

Professor Flitwick didn’t admonish her for the insult.

“Lydia’s right, Miss Evergreen. You are a child, and nothing you could have done makes her harming you okay. Lydia, continue.”

“Right. So, I walk down the corridor to see Umbridge holding Maeve around the wrist, and keeping her on the floor. She looked hurt, and you know Umbridge’s track record, so I went closer. When I saw she was hurting her, I disarmed her. She wanted me to give back her wand, and I said I would when she let Maeve go. She didn’t, and so I stepped on her wand. Not hard, I promise. Just as a threat. When she still didn’t let go, and I got scared what she might do, I- I called for you.”

Professor Flitwick frowned.

“You skipped something. What did you skip?”

“Nothing! Nothing important.”

Professor Flitwick directed his attention to Maeve.

“What did she omit, Miss Evergreen?”

“Wait no-”

“Professor Umbridge asked who she was gonna call, ‘cause her mum and dad aren’t here. And then Lydia said they _were_ here, and that her dad was in the charms classroom, and her mum was just a few floors down.”

Lydia bit the inside of her cheek and looked down to avoid Professor Flitwick’s joyous smile.

“Anyway, you came out, bada-bing, bada-boom, Umbridge flees like a coward. The end.”

Professor Flitwick (thankfully!!) didn’t press the subject, and asked Maeve, “Why was Professor Umbridge holding you like that? Did you break any rules?”

“I was just trying to find your office because I didn’t understand what to do in our essay you assigned for next Tuesday, but I couldn’t find it, and she thought I was sneaking around, but I _wasn’t!_ And she told me Filch would have fun hanging me by my ankles, but my ankles are really weak and my mum is always saying not to hurt them because they’re too weak, and I tried to tell her but -”

“Breathe, Miss Evergreen. Notice how deep Lydia’s breathing is? Copy her.”

Lydia took Maeve’s hand and placed it over her heart, pulling the fabric of her Weasley jumper to the side to expose some of her skin.

Maeve copied it after a few tries, and then both of their breathing was calmer.

Truthfully, she’s glad professor Flitwick had made Maeve copy her, because the anger she had been feeling was close to sending her into a rage. He probably knew it, too.

After Professor Flitwick could tell they were both alright, he said, “Maeve, Mr. Filch won’t hang you by your ankles. The most that will happen is lines, or some cleaning. Isn’t that right, Lydia?”

Lydia nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry, sweetheart. My friends, Fred and George, have had more detentions than anyone, and the worst was cleaning out a gross cauldron.”

Professor Flitwick clapped his hands.

“Now that that’s done with! Come, let’s get that essay understood, shall we? Lydia, stay a moment, won’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

She sat, playing with a thread on her ripped jeans, while Professor Flitwick helped Maeve. When he was done and she had been sent off, he was standing in front of her.

“Lydia, my dear, look at me.”

“I don’t wanna.”

He knelt so she was forced to look at his face.

“Why not?”

“Because, you want to talk about why I’ve been avoiding you, and I don’t want to talk about that.”

He sighed.

“I will hold off on that conversation for a little while longer if we can talk about what Miss Evergreen said. Is that better?”

She thought about it.

Was telling her father figure she considered him a father figure worse than telling him she’d been avoiding said father figure because she was in a controlling and possibly abusive relationship?

“Fine, that’s marginally less difficult.”

He smiled.

“Good. Now...is that true? Do you see me as…”

“Yes. _Yes_ , I see you as a dad! You’re way better than my biological dad ever was.”

“Oh, _Lydia!_ You must know I see you as a daughter, always have. You and Abigail, you’re my little girls.” He happily pulled her into a hug, and she sank into it gratefully. Perhaps too gratefully, because he asked quietly, “My dear, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just haven’t been hugged in a little while. I’m gonna be okay.”

“Yes, you are. You’re going to be okay because I’ve got you.”

* * *

She wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay at all. 

Currently, she was ruining one of her uniform shirts by trying to staunch the blood running out of her hand. Why is her hand bleeding, you ask? Because fucking Umbridge. The woman made her use what’s called a Blood Quill, and said quill uses your own blood as ink! It’s so fucked up, and Lydia doesn’t know whether to cry or scream, so she does neither. She simply runs as fast as she can, feeling very faint, to the Hospital WIng.

When she gets to the infirmary, she hesitates. She hasn’t been here for nearly two months, and she’s scared. Not of Mam, never her. But she’s scared of something. Maybe her failure to avoid letting Ciara change her? She doesn’t know.

Ignoring it because she's a Gryffindor dammit, she kicks twice on the door.

“Come in!”  
“Can’t!” She calls back, and she hears the pause of bustle on the other side.

Then, Madam Pomfrey’s opening the door and is staring at her incredulously.

“My word, what are you - what’s happened?! In, in right now!”

Lydia follows, keeping pressure on her still bleeding hand as she does.

“I’ll be getting an explanation about your sudden disappearance later, for now I need to see the hand.”

Lydia carefully unwraps the part of her shirt around the hand, wincing as it irritates the cuts.

“What did you do?!”

“Umbridge has the quill the goblins’ve got, for official documents, you know? Anyway, she made me use it in detention.”

“She made you use a Blood Quill?! Oh, that woman! She is a vile-” Taking a very, _very_ deep breath, Madam Pomfrey sighed.

Directing her attention away from the anger making her magic pulsate, she squints at the words, then glares at Lydia.

“I know she didn’t tell you to write this.

Grinning Lydia says, “Well if it was going to scar I wanted something I believed in, not a stupid Umbridgism!”

She hadn't written the rubbish Umbridge told her to about respecting authority. No, she had written: **_I will be a decent fucking human being._ **

Mam shook her head, and began to cast spells to stop the bleeding.

“And how, exactly, did you get this detention? Is it for defending that first year?”

Lydia was reminded, once again, that Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick gossip about her.

“Er, yeah, that.”

She nodded, and lathered on a painful antiseptic.

“Why have you been avoiding us?”

“It’s not you all, it’s...things are hard for me right now.”

“Things have been hard for you in the past, and you’ve never skipped our Sunday nights together.”

Lydia swallowed.

“Please, give me more time. I want to tell you, but I need to fix things first.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, and with a quick wash of her bloody hands, caressed Lydia’s cheek.

“Alright, my sweet. But not much longer. You don’t need to fix it all on your own.”

“I do, really, I do. All this mess happened because of me so...So it’s mine to fix.”

Madam Pomfrey retracted her hand and patted Lydia’s knee.

“Well, you’re done, then.” She turned around to dismiss Lyda, but as Lydia dropped off the bed she heard her ask, “This Sunday, chocolate or pistachio?”

“Pistachio, please. Er, eight o’clock?”

“As always.”

On her way back to the dorm, Lydia stops by Professor Flitwick’s classroom. Luckily, and surprisingly, he’s still in there. 

“Professor, a mo’?”

He turned from cleaning up the parchment stacks on his desk, and beckoned her in.

“I've missed you coming in, my dear. Sit, sit! What can i do?”

She swallowed nervously.

“In my detention, Umbridge made me use a quill, a Blood Quill.”

Just as she thought, and why she was so nervous to tell him, Professor Flitwick’s smile dropped into a sneer just like that of Ardrig’s.

“Please, repeat yourself. I don't believe I heard correctly.”

Instead of repeating herself, she held her wrapped hand out to him.

He gently unwrapped it, and really did let out a snarl at the sight.

“Lydia, where is the Blood Quill.”

Knowing he would want it, she had nicked the quill Umbridge loaned her to use, and dug it out of her skirt’s waistband.

“Here. Um, I didn’t clean it off in case...well, it’s evidence, you know.”

He nodded at her, quickly rewrapped her hand, took the quill,and placed it in a drawer in his desk.

“You need to see Madam Pomfrey. I know you don’t want to-”

“I already have, Sir. Promise on Luna’s life.”

He shook his head at the promise, but relented.

“Alright. I’ll ask her, mind, but for now you may go. Unless..?”

“No, I’m alright. I should go anyway, the twins are waiting on Monopoly so I can play. I’ll see you, Professor.”

“Lydia?”

“Yes, sir?”

He rubbed his hands together nervously.

“You may call me Filius in private, if you are comfortable. I know we talked about our feelings toward each other, but it occurred to me I didn’t ask whether you would like to call me a different name, when we’re alone. Most children don’t call their dads by a surname.”

She smiled.

“I’ll, um, think about it, sir. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

* * *

Telling the twins was both easier, and immensely more difficult.

It’s late when she enters the common room, the only ones awake are the fifth and seventh years cramming for exams.

Lee is huddled in a corner with Fred and George all whispering to each other over a few pieces of parchment. 

She slides in next to them, and asks, “What’s this?”

Lee hurriedly covers it, before seeing it’s her.

“Bloody hell, Lydia, give a bloke some warning. I thought you were Hermione.”

Lydia blinks in offense for a moment.

“I give off _Hermione Granger_ vibes?!”

Fred snorts and pats her shoulder.

“Chill, Princess, you don’t. You give off murder vibes.”

“Like the murder princess you are!” Adds George, pivoting the parchments to show her.

“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes,” she reads in a mumble, “What’s this for, the shop?”

They all nod excitedly.

Then, George frowns.

“Why do you look so pale? Are you alright?”

She waves his hand away from her forehead.

“That’s what I want to talk about. Dorm?”

Lee follows them up after grabbing the parchment and quills, mumbling excuses for their sudden exit to nosy students.

When all four of them have sat on Lee’s bed, adding a silencing charm because Kenneth Towler is asleep, she bites her lip.

“Have y’all ever thought about the ratio of professors to students?”

They shrug.

“Why?” asks Lee, “That doesn’t have anything to do with your paleness.”

She repeats the question, a sly lilt to her voice this time, less nervous now that she’s started the conversation.

After a long moment of thinking, Fred and then George’s eyes light up.

“It’s like, one to seven.”

“There’s only twenty professors.”

She grins.

“Exactly. If we all collectively decided to oust Umbridge, they couldn't stop us. We could hold our own student revolution against Umbridge!”

George placed a hesitant hand on the arm she wasn’t hiding.

“Woah, I thought you just wanted to keep her on her toes with some pranks.”

Lydia scowled.

“That was until I found out what exactly she does in those detentions.”

Smirking, Fred asked, “Did perfect Lyia break a rule? I’m sure Flitty’s absolutely devastated!”

She socked him in the arm.

“Piss off. All I did was defend a poor girl from Umbridge.”

Lee sat forward, resting his chin on a propped up knee.

“Why’d she need defending? Sure, Umbridge is awful, but he kid would’ve been fine.”

Lydia shook her head.

Fred whispered, a concerned tilt to his mouth, “What happened? You look upset.”

So, with an angry shake in her voice, Lydia explained.

“She wouldn’t let her get up, Freddie. The poor girl had a sprained wrist from how hard Umbridge was holding her! And I couldn’t get Umbridge to let go. I had to scream for help, and...It fucking sucked, is all.”

George scooted closer to Lydia, pulling her in for a hug.

“It’s okay, the kid’s alright now. Flitty helped, you said.”

“Yeah, but then I went to detention. Look what she did.”

Holding out her hand for Fred, he frowned at the gauze.

“G’on, unwrap it. Carefully!”

He slowly unwrapped it, and Lee let out a gasp as he caught the first glimpse.

“Lydia, that’s blood!”

Fred exclaimed, “She made you carve into your skin?!”

“She _WHAT?!_ ” screamed George, reaching out to pull her hand closer to him.

She flinched away from the noise, and cradled her hand to her chest.

“Don’t pull, it’s bloody obvious enough!” with a sigh, she apologised, “Sorry, it-it just hurts. Anyway, it’s called a Blood Quill. Goblins usually use them for official paperwork, so does the Ministry. They’re illegal to own, though. Professor Flitwick’s got the quill I used for evidence, so that’s one less from er.”

“You think she’s got more?” Lee gasped, his voice hushed as if someone could hear. “She can't!”

“I saw them, lee. There was a whole tin of them. Just sitting on her desk. Some still had blood on the nibs.”

All four of them shuddered at that.

“What do we do?” Asked Fred, his voice angry and sad at the same time. “She can’t - she can’t keep this up.”

Lydia shrugged as they all looked at her expectantly.

“I don’t know. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick know, but Umbridge’s practically taken over. Fred’s right though, she can’t just be allowed to do this. What if it’s Natalie next time? Or anyone else?”

They actually looked apprehensive.

“But, we’re kids, Lydia. We can’t do anything.”

She frowned at Lee.

“Y’all, I’m one of the quieter Gryffindors, right? Outside our friend group, I mean.”

They slowly nodded.

“Now think, who’s loud and who’s been getting multiple detentions, all year long?”

As one their eyes widened, and she nodded.

“Harry. How much do you wanna bet he’s hiding it and thinks he can’t tell?”

George let his head thunk against the headboard.

“Fucking hell.”

“Exactly,’” Lydia sighed, bringing her now scarred hand up to scratch at her face scar. “Now, the way I see it we have two options. One, we lay down and hope to every deity this was a one time thing and not happening in other detentions -”

“Unlikely.”

“ _Or_ ,” She continued, “Or we can revolt against the toad, make her run screaming from the school, ruin her public image so she never gets a job again, and mutilate her back if given the chance.”

They balked at her, but when she only stared them down they shrugged in acceptance.

“Umbridge doesn’t mean shit! All she is, is an ugly toad with an abominable taste in pink - really she’s ruined the color - and she gets a power trip from hurting kids.”

“This is _our_ school, not hers,” Lee yelled, pumping a fist in the air. “She’s outnumbered!”

“It’s about time we put her in her place,” Georg agreed.

“All right, princess,” Fred said as he leaned forward, “What’s the plan?”

Grinning, Lydia said, “Operation Revolt Against the Dolt is a-go!”

“How long’d it take you to come up with that?” George snickered.

Nudging his side, she laughed.

“Piss off, Peabrain.”

* * *

Luna, Ginny, Neville, and Lydia were having a sleepover in celebration of the former two’s good grade on their Charms quiz. 

Neville and Ginny had fallen asleep hours ago, the latter tired from time in the greenhouses and Ginny always able to nap no matter where she was. Ginny, as always, was asleep in the oddest position possible. 

Her neck was angled up on the pillow, her legs hooked by the ankles on the rings of Lydia's bed, and she was lying on her front. 

Neville was curled up next to her, cuddling one of Lydias pillows. Trevor was croaking quietly from his spot on Neville’s stomach, unaware Crookshanks was about to snatch him. Stoner was trying valiantly to prevent it, sitting on top of Crookshanks. 

Luna, from her spot across from Lydia on the bed, leaned forward and placed her forehead on Lydia’s. 

Lydia glanced up from the book she was reading, some romance about ogres. It had been lent from Hermione and was the funniest thing she’d ever read. 

“Yes, Lu?”

“Your eyes are clearer now.”

Lydia smiled. 

“That’s good. I feel clearer.”

Luna frowned. 

“They’re not clear, yet. You have to finish clearing them.”

“How?”

**_Don’t say what I think you’re saying. Please. I can’t do it._ **

“You know.”

“...But, I don’t want to. I like her-”

But she didn’t, not anymore. Yes, Ciara was pretty, and she was fun sometimes. But she was also mean, and controlling, and Lydia wasn’t someone to be controlled. She wasn’t. Not anymore. 

Lydia liked the _idea_ of Ciara, more than she liked Ciara. 

“ _Listen_ this time, Lydia!”

Lydia pulled away and sunk into the bed. 

“Luna, I’m fine.”

She wasn’t. She didn’t know why she kept saying she was, and why people believed her, because she wasn’t! Why couldn’t she admit it? Why didn’t they make her admit it?

**_I’m not okay, I’m not, I’m not! Help me. Do it for me. I need help. I just can’t say it._ **

Holding onto her arm, Luna begged, “Big sister, _please!_ Stop Ciara! You would if she treated any of us how she does you.”

“But she doesn’t, and I’m handling it.”

**_I’m not handling it. I can’t help me, handle it for me._ **

Luna sighed and laid her head on Lydia’s stomach. 

“I don’t like when you ignore me.”

“I...I’m sorry, Luna.”

She wouldn’t ignore Luna too much longer. She just wanted time. Time to pretend she was happy with Ciara. 

Even if that hadn’t ever been true. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again, loves! Okay wow, this is quite the chapter! Here are my notes:  
> -Umbridge is so awful. just fuck her.  
> -flitwick protecting his students?? yes please and ty!!  
> -you’ll see more of maeve, i promise.  
> -lydia’s taking back her freedom from ciara!! the ciara era will come to an end soon!!  
> -“in fact my dad’s in that classroom” tell me i’m not the only one crying rn. please. scream at me in the comments about it.  
> -Luna, my poor baby, just wants Lydai to listen :'(((  
> words: 3932  
> Next Week: Things begin to crack around Lydia, and she makes a decision.


	8. I Got Boulders On My Shoulders, Collarbones Begin To Crack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: controlling relationship, hitting w/in relationship, manipulation, Umbridge violence, blood, break up

Lydia usually spends her time as the DA’s lookout reading. She sits against the Room of Requirement’s door, with a stack of books at her side and steadily works her way through them. She’s nearly finished with her third book when she hears footsteps. Straining her ears, she can hear a group, and the hard footfalls of Umbridge’s heels. 

Nearly leaping onto her feet and kicking the books across the corridor into a small cove of stone, she bangs on the door, knowing someone will hear. Then, she sprints.

When she makes it to the first floor, she jumps over the last three steps and points her wand at her collar bones.

“Okay, this is gonna hurt, Lydia.” Bracing herself by holding a breath, sh mutters, “ _ Fractis Osis!  _ Oh fuck, fucking-ow!”

Bringing a hand to hold her collar bones, which had promptly shattered from the spell, she sprinted the rest of the way to the infirmary. Mam was going to kill her.

Kicking twice with her foot in a knock, she waited until the door was opened.

“Oh no, what have you done? Bed, now.”

Sitting on the bed dubbed hers, she removed her hand.

“Have you heard of Dumbledore’s Army?”

Sighing heavily, she shook her head.

“I don’t think I want to. Tell me.”

So, Lydia did.

“Let me clarify. You agreed to be the lookout for an illegal defense group being run by Harry Potter in a secret room no one knows about. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“And to provide an alibi for yourself, you sprinted from the seventh floor, shattered your own collarbones, and expected me to cover for you.”

“Mhm. You will, right?”

“Dear Morgana, child! Yes, I will. But this was incredibly foolish! Why would you do such a thing when you could have just as easily stayed away from it all?”

Madam Pomfrey punctuated her sentence by flicking her wand at Lydia’s chest, her collarbones immediately beginning to sew themselves back together.

Once she could feel them healing, Lydia spoke.

“Mam, with no disrespect, I couldn’t stay away from the DA. It’s something I believed in, something I still do! We need to learn to defend ourselves, and Umbridge was actively preventing that. I’ve never believed in anything more than I believe in this.”

“My sweet, you’re sixteen! You’ve not had the time to believe in things!”

“Mam, when I was six, I knew if I didn’t leave the country I was born in, I wouldn’t survive. I didn’t understand death, but I knew it would come for me if I didn’t run away. Now, ten years later, I know if I don’t do something to stop this, I’ll be killed. I can’t run to a different country this time. This is my home, and I’ve gotta defend it.”

Sighing heavily and placing a palm over her face in exasperation, Madam Pomfrey nodded. Letting the hand fall, she turned to the book she kept track of student admissions in.

“What time do you need to have been here for things to be believable?”

* * *

With the DA no longer a safe thing, Lee, the twins, and Lydia have much more time on their hands.    
Ciara had initially been dragging Lydia from meals to spend time with her, but when they’d only seen Lydia once in four days, Katie and Alicia teamed up with Ginny and Luna to track them down and take Lydia away for time to decompress. 

When she had been given a few hours of alone time, Lydia seemed much more like herself, so their hypothesis was proven: Ciara Pritt is a leech and needed to be stopped.

The only problem is Lydia didn’t seem to be in the place to break things off, and Ciara wasn’t letting go. So their group of friends did the next best thing; They holed Lydia up in the tower, one of them attached to her sides at meals, in between lessons, and anytime she left the tower. She didn’t mind, which helped.

Ciara, however, was stubborn. She’d taken to camping outside Gryffindor Tower, even when Ginny jumped through the portrait hole and began screaming at her. Colin and Neville both had to be enlisted to drag her screaming and kicking back inside, and they had Angelina call Professor McGonagall, who wasn’t pleased one bit by the creepy behavior if the amount of points she’d taken was any indication.

Which brings us back to the extra time Lee, Fred, George, and Lydia have in their hands. They’ve got too much of it. And sure, they should be studying for their NEWTs (in Lydia’s case, OWLs) but it’s so much more fun to plan pranks for Umbridge. Ones just for her, because they appreciate her  _ that much.  _

“Okay,” Lee sighs, petting Priscilla, “what about adding Valerian to her tea? As a sedative, so she’s drowsy all day.”

Groaning and flopping back on the floor, Fred groaned “Boring! We need McGonagall drowsy, we need Umbridge  _ shrieking _ .”

Lydia tilted her head. 

“It has potential, though. If we overdosed her, she could be asleep within the hour. Enough time for her to be in classes, then  _ drop _ . Actually, if we added lavender - not the person - it would work even better. We’d be able to cover the scent with honey. She always adds honey.”

“How do you notice that?”

Snorting at Lee, she continued, “Actually, we could add the valerian sprigs to her omelette. The elves like to spit in it, the more willful ones, that is. It wouldn’t be hard to get Rosy or Penny to slip a few handfuls in.”

George tackled her in a hug. 

“You genius girl! She wouldn’t notice it either because of the cat hair that’s always in her food.”

Smirking a little at the reminder that their prank  _ still _ rained cat hair on her at each meal, Lydia laid herself in George’s lap. 

“So, lavender and valerian sprigs. Easy. Hagrid won’t even ask if we send Luna down to his garden, and the lavender can be gotten from Professor Sprout. She always keeps it for students who’ve got insomnia.”

The four of them planned a few more pranks throughout the hours, and didn’t even realize how long they’d been talking until Stoner mewed and pawed at the hair that had fallen from Lydia’s scrunchie. It hung off of George’s lap, and the cat was swatting it. 

Grinning, Fred whispered, “Ooh, your crush is sleeping in your lap! How  _ romantic! _ ”

Lee joined, “What next, a walk during sunset?”

“Or roses?”

“Perhaps a picnic!”

Adjusting his legs so she settled more comfortably and sighed in her sleep, George scowled at them both. 

“Piss off, both of you. Don’t wake her up.”

Neither of them were keen on waking her up either, but they still make kissy faces and gestures until Lydia shifts and they go abruptly silent for the rest of the night. 

* * *

“You can’t avoid me, Bunny!”

Sighing to the once empty corridor, Lydia turned to face Ciara. 

“Hi, Ciara. What’s up?”

“Why haven’t you spent time with me? We’ll have to work even harder now to get you in better shape.”

“I’ve been studying for OWLs, and spending time with my friends. You can’t monopolize all my time.”

“Says who? I’m your girlfriend! You should try harder to please me!”

“Says  _ me.  _ And I tried that shit, it didn’t work. Want to break up? Because I do.”

Ciara came closer in the blink of an eye. 

“I  _ love  _ you. Don’t you like being loved? I know your family doesn’t love you.”

Lydia frowned. 

Almost to herself, she said, “Yeah, they don’t. But my friends love me, Mam loves me, so does Da. That’s enough.”

“You know that’s not true. You crave love, and you can only get it from me. I’ll never get tired of you, Bunny, but they all  _ will.  _ The Weasleys will get tired of you wasting their food, Lovegood will get tired of you hogging her time, Longbottom will get tired of you mooching off his Herbology essays. Eventually they’ll all leave you, and all you’ll have is me. And I’ll still be here. Because I love you. But do you love me?”

Lydia hesitated. 

Did she even know love? 

Love was…

Love was her spot between the twins, warm not from her jumper, but from their arms around her. 

Love was Luna painting her arms blue, purple, and pink. 

Love was Ginny wrestling her in the sunny apple orchard of the Burrow, getting tired and just sunbathing. 

Love was Harry falling asleep in her lap, her hand in his curls, completely at peace. 

Love was Mr. Weasley kissing the top of her head, telling her she was his, too. 

Love was good, and warm, and kind. 

Love wasn’t Ciara. 

Ciara grabbed onto Lydia's bicep, hard enough to make the muscles there go numb and icy. 

“You love me,  _ right?! _ ”

Lying through her teeth, Lydia said, “Yes, so much. You’re...you’re all I need.”

Ciara let go, shoving her. 

“Good. Now come on, we’re finding a place to snog. I’ve been so lonely without you.”

Lydia licked her front two teeth. 

It felt gritty, like sand. 

She hated sand. 

* * *

Nothing makes Lydia angrier than Luna being bullied. If the girl only let her, Lydia would stab those idiots in her faces, but Luna won’t. So Lydia settles for harmless jinxes and hexes. 

The two are walking together to lunch when a group of Ravenclaw in the year below Luna sidled up next to them. 

“Loony, did you  _ finally _ find a friend?”

“Don’t bother with her. You don’t know this, but she’s an odd one. Look at her weird radish earrings!”

Lydia glared. 

“Hey, those are  _ dirigible plums!  _ And don’t speak about Luna that way. She’s a better friend and person than you lot are.”

One of the taller girls scoffed. 

“ _ Oh _ . I get it. You pity her.”

Another giggled. 

“No, that’s not it, Eva. Look at that ugly scar! She probably scares everyone off, except Loony’s too stupid to find it ghastly.”

Rolling her eyes at the insult, Lydia hissed, “Luna isn’t stupid. Scurry off like the cowards you are before I make you.”

The third girl, shorter, grabbed at Luna’s necklace. 

“Ew, is this a cork? How odd.”

She threw it across the corridor, and Luna let out a sad sound. 

“I’ll go get it, Lydia. See you at lunch, after you’ve taken care of things?”

Lydia grinned. That was as good as permission for her to fuck the bullies up. 

“See you there, darling!”

Once Luna had begun to skip off, Lydia snapped her wand at the girl who had thrown the necklace. 

“ _ Flipendo! Melofors! _ ”

She fell back on her bum and slid back a few paces, and when the second jinx hit her face was covered in a pumpkin. 

From the inside, her shriek echoed, “EW!”

The taller of the girls grabbed Lydia’s wrist, and Lydia jabbed her with the end of her wand. 

“ _ Relashio! _ ”

“Ow!”

Without giving her time to grab her wand, Lydia cast another. 

“ _ Ebublio! _ ”

She was encased in a bubble and went up, up, up, until she was level with the ceiling. She stayed there afloat. 

Grinning a moment too long at her work, Lydia missed the third girl’s jinx. 

“ _ Flipendo! Expelliarmus!” _

With her wand in the girl’s hand, Lydia was without her main weapon. 

But she still had her body, and that was the weapon she was most skilled in. 

While the girl was celebrating smugly, she didn’t see Lydia swiping her feet out from under her, nor did she see the fist come at her. 

“AHHH -  _ DIFFINDO! _ ”

Her forehead being sliced into wasn’t pleasant, but neither was much of her life, so she'd deal.

Suddenly, there were heels clacking against the floors. Lydia groaned. 

The girl ran off, and Lydia thought about following, but Umbridge’s voice calling out made her realize she was too late. 

And about to be in deep shit. 

“Miss McBrien! What is the meaning of this?!”

Raising a bloody eyebrow because,  _ what does she think?,  _ Lydia gestured around her. 

“Won a fight.”

Umbridge clicked her tongue angrily. 

“Not in  _ my  _ school, you didn’t! Detention, now!”

“Shouldn’t you get her off the ceiling? And get that one out of the pumpkin? How about my bleeding face? Should you fix that?”

“Bad behavior is not rewarded, Miss McBrien! My office, this instant. You’ll be-”

“Writing lines? Yeah, I figured.”

With an angry huff, Umbridge said, “Yes. And tone down that attitude or you’ll have another set to write.”

Figuring Mam would kill her if she did more than forced to, Lydia shut up. 

“Okay, but you’re really just leaving them?”

Umbridge didn’t reply. 

* * *

Later, free from her detention, she goes to the infirmary. 

When she kicks in the door and then is let in, she’s slightly surprised to see Professor Flitwick there. 

“Gossip night, is it? Why wasn’t I invited?”

He lets loose a grin, but when Mam sighs in frustration and he sees her hand, it falls. 

“What this time? I thought you were avoiding her.”

With a sigh, Lydia lets Mam direct her to sit on a bed. 

“I was. But Luna was getting bullied, one thing led to another, and now one girl hs a pumpkin in her head and the other is floating in a bubble somewhere.”

Professor Flitwick looks impressed and upset about it. 

“Who? I thought the bullying had stopped.”

Lydia scoffs. 

“They’re new, second year at most. All Ravenclaw, but didn’t get names. Pretty sure Pumpkinhead and Bubbles are still there. Entrance Hall area.”

Mam snorts a little at the names, then says, “Okay, cleaning time. Filius, hold her hand. This will hurt worse than last time, my sweet. The more you use a Blood Quill…”

She lets the sentence hang, because there’s nothing to explain. They all know what happens. It never closes if you use one too much. 

Professor Flitwick hopped up into the bed beside Lydia and grabbed onto her free hand. 

Mam began to clean out the cuts, and Lydia hissed through the pain. 

When it came to a particular deep area, she groaned. 

“You’re alright, my dear. Mam and I are here.”

She let her head fall against his shoulder, and when it began to hurt worse, she groaned, “ _ Da! _ ”

She ignored the excited looks the two adults exchanged. 

Finally, with it bandaged and Madam Pomfrey cleaning her up, Lydia was ready to leave. 

As Madam Pomfrey was wiping down her arm from the blood that had somehow made its way up, the woman paused. 

“Lydia, what is a handprint bruise doing on your bicep?”

Lydia glanced over and grimaced. 

When she looked to Professor Flitwick to gauge his reaction, he only said, “I think it’s time to stop putting off that talk, my dear.”

“I know.”

Lydia isn’t let out of the Hospital Wing all night, and Luna ends up visiting her after dinner.

“Just a few minutes, Miss Lovegood. When you’re done, professor Flitwick would like to see you, he’s just in my office.”

Luna smiles at her, then plops down on the bed next to Lydia. She carefully avoids the side that the bruise was on, and says, “Ciara.”

“Yeah. But um, don’t worry. Tomorrow morning, it’s over. I don’t care what happens, I-”

“I know. I wish it didn't take so long, though. Is that why you didn’t come for dinner?”

“No,” Lydia sighs, then gestures to her bandaged hand. “Umbridge gave me a detention.”

“Oh. I’m sorry you defended me, then.”

Lydia waved her off.

“Don’t be, I’m glad I did. Besides, Madam Pomfrey thinks it’ll just be a faint scar. Did you get back your necklace?”

Smiling, she pulled on one of the many chains around her neck. This one is a blue fabric, a large knot connecting two ends.

“I had to reconnect it, but it’s as good as before. How long are you here for?”

“Just ‘til breakfast tomorrow. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay. You’d better, too. Good night, sister.”

“Night, Lu.”

When she leaves a reluctant Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary the next morning, Lydia feels light. She doesn’t know where Ciara is, but knowing the girl she’ll run into her soon. 

As she walks the way to lunch, she wonders what she’ll say. Ideally, Lydia would have a cool, badass speech and surprise Ciara. Realistically, she’ll probably freeze up and let Ciara do whatever she wants, like usual. She  _ really _ hopes she surprises herself. 

Nearly at the Great Hall, someone jumps on her back. 

Already knowing it wasn’t one of her friends, because none of them went against her wishes so easily, she shoved Ciara off. 

“I’ve told you time and time again, don’t do that. So don’t fucking do it, Ciara!”

“Ooh, Bunny’s angry today. Let’s fix-”

Lydia shoved Ciara off her. 

“ _ No.  _ My name isn’t Bunny, and you’re not fixing me, because there’s nothing to fix.”

“You weren’t worth saving. I could have saved you, but it’s not worth it.”

“The only saving I need is from you, and I’ll do it on my own. I know I’m the perfect broken pet project, but so are you, so focus on your own flaws first and I’ll focus on mine.”

“So you’re really trying to break up with  _ me _ ? I’m Ciara Pritt! I-I’ll tell everyone how weak you are! They won’t fear you anymore.”

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, Lydia said, “Okay. Being weak isn’t a bad thing, I’m learning. You can’t threaten me anymore, Ciara, because it doesn’t get worse than being with you. Leave me alone, and say whatever you like.”

“So that’s it? After everything and you’re just leaving?”

“We were together, if you can even call it that, for three months. Three miserable months, Ciara. You’ll get over it. Just...seriously, leave me alone. I don’t understand your obsession with fixing me, but get over it.”

Ciara grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, hissing, “You’ll regret this. I’m going to bide my time, and one day, I’ll get you back.”

“Yeah, sure. You do that.”

There was a gust of air, Lydia's cheek stung. 

Ciara pulled her hand away from Lydia’s face. 

“You disgust me.”

Waving with a mocking grin, Lydia sang, “You disgust me  _ more _ !”

Lydia felt like she had just won the hardest fight of her life. Like, just before her opponent had cast the final blow, Lydia had managed to overpower them and ended up on top. Like she had looked her opponent in the face, pinned them, and said, “I win.” Like they had tapped out.

In less words, Lydia felt, despite the stinging of her cheek, like she had finally won something. It was the first good thing in the past three months, and she was still grinning when she entered the Great Hall for lunch.

She doesn’t make it halfway to the end of Gryffindor’s table, where the Quidditch team always sits with her other friends, when Luna suddenly looks up and makes eye contact. 

Luna practically jumps from her seat, jostling Lee and Ginny, and then she’s skipping towards Lydia.

Lydia speeds up her walk, arms already opened on instinct. When Luna tackles her in a mess of butterbeer corks and tangled hair intermixed with plaits, all Lydia can do is laugh and step back a few paces in an effort to hold them up.

Luna’s legs wrap around her waist naturally, and they both laugh in delight.

“Oh,  _ Sister! _ ” Lydia cries, tears in her grey eyes. “I’m so proud. You did it!”

Lydia squeezes her tighter, walking slowly towards their table.

“You were right, but you always are.”

“I’m so glad you listened, finally.”

“Me too, Lu. Me too.”

When they get a few feet from the table, Lee gets up and grabs Luna, but as soon as Lydia’s sitting, Luna’s in her lap again.

When Lee tells her she should sit, Luna only replies, “I am, thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi loves, happy 2021 <3  
> notes:  
> -okay so Fractis Osis is a made up spell because i couldn’t find the bone breaking curse. but that’s a thing, right? i swear i heard it before. anyway, fractis comes from the latin (fractus) for broken, and (os) for bone. i added random sounds at the end, and bam. 
> 
> -just because i think this might be confusing, during the scenes with Madam Pomfrey, it switches from Mam to Madam Pomfrey because we’re seeing everything through Lydia. and because Lydia is still not completely comfortable with seeing Madam Pomfrey as Mam, it switches back and forth. same person though!
> 
> -HAHA CIARA IS GONE!!! 
> 
> -am i still sobbing at the scene where she calls Flitwick Da? why yes, yes i am. 
> 
> words: 3318   
> Next Week: With the twins gone, Lydia and Lee cause chaos.


	9. Sticky Notes and Rosemary

Lydia walked into her career meeting with Professor McGonagall knowing what she wanted to say, and she felt confident in her decision. It would be difficult, but she was excited to try, and hear what professor McGonagall thought her options were.

Professor McGonagall welcomed her in, and they sat at the woman’s desk.

“Miss McBrien, any - yes Dolores?”

Lydia mentally groaned as Umbridge took a seat near the back of the room.

“Observing, Minerva, dear. Did you -”

“Yes, I have received your note, Dolores. It said you would be supervising one of my fifth year’s career consultation meetings. But I see you've decided to observe two instead.”

“Yes, well-”

“Miss McBrien,” Professor McGonagall interrupted, “I suggest the Ministry if you haven’t any ideas so far. You are well known for following the rules, save a few rare instances.”

“ _ Actually _ , your information seems to be incorrect, Minerva. See, Miss McBrien dueled two second years just a few weeks ago.”

“I am aware, Dolores. However, the dueling is a rare instance, as I specified. Miss McBrien does not make it a habit, and I see no problem as long as she serves her due time. Which she did, with you.”

Lydia twisted in her chair to watch Umbridge’s face scrunch into a scowl, and only turned back around when Professor McGonagall tapped her nails against the desk.

“At the Ministry, you will not be expected to physically exert yourself, which would be good for your condition, yes?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Though I’m not sure someone who keeps the company you do would be interested in a calm work environment, would you?”

Grinning, Lydia shook her head.

“I reckon it’d give me whiplash. I need a little excitement.”

Professor McGonagall nodded.

“Have you any interest, or will you need some suggestions?”

“I’d like to be a healer, Ma’am. I know lots about health, and I’ve learned a few healing spells over the years.”

Professor McGonagall smiled.

“Ah, I should have known. You will need at least five Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations in your NEWTs for Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Currently, you have O’s in Charms, Defense, and Potions, with E’s in Transfiguration, Herbology, and Potions. You’ll be able to pass your NEWT’s easily in all except Potions and Herbology. You’ll need to step up your work. A reminder that to get into Professor Snape’s NEWT lessons, you need an Outstanding OWL. You are fairly close to receiving an O in my class, you should study up and then you’ll have it.”

She took a breath, and then asked, “Questions?”

“How do you suggest I get my grades up in Potions and Herbology? They’ve always been harder for me.”

“Professor Sprout would be very happy to help you understand her lessons, I suggest talking to her about it on your own time. As for potions, do you have any friends talented at it? Perhaps that study group you were part of before clubs were banned.”

At that, she glared in Umbridge’s direction.

“Oh, you’re right! Heidi’s amazing at potions.”

“Brilliant, it’s solved. Now, I suggest speaking with Madam Pomfrey the next time you see her. She’ll know the inside of Healing.”

“She told me she took Muggle anatomy courses, so I’ll definitely talk to her. Thanks, Professor.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss McBrien. Unless you’ve any questions, that's you done.”

“I’m good, thanks. See you in class, Professor. Have a good day.”

“Have a good day, Miss McBrien!”

As she left she overheard Umbridge say, “She’s not going to become a Healer, her kind are the dregs, Minerva, dregs!”

“Say that when she’s the only healer to help you, Dolores. See what she does. Because I’ll tell you, she won’t be a dreg, but you sure are.”

* * *

That night had been Angelina’s scheduled trivia night, but after the entire seventh year group became ill with alcohol poisoning, it was cancelled. Thus why Lydia’s sitting in her favorite armchair in the corner, watching the other Gryffindors attempt to play Pictionary. Dean was getting increasingly frustrated with everyone’s lack of skill, and it was hilarious.

Two people pop up beside her.

“Princess, how nice to-”

“-see you on this lovely night.”

Snorting, she looked at them, spotting what looked like beef jerky in their hands.

“Alright, ‘fess up. What’s it laced with?”

“Nothing,” George promised, handing it to her.

She stared at him, then at Fred.

“How stupid do you think I am?”

Fred perched himself on the arm of her chair.

“Not at all, Princess! It’s not laced with anything. Just some jerky.”

“You know I can’t have beef.”

George nudged her with the jerky.

“It’s not, promise. It’s chicken, which was really hard to find, by the way. It’s got a charm on it to numb your senses halfway.”

“So you can enjoy the prank we’ve planned for everyone else!” Fred added from where his head was now in her lap.

She frowned, then decided to say fuck it, and popped the jerky in her mouth.

When nothing happened, she nodded.

“Okay, now what?”

George looked around the room for a moment, then saluted someone.

Suddenly, glitter rained from the ceiling. It passed them like a literal barrier was around them, but it coated everyone else completely.

Hermione leapt onto a table and began to yodel.

Parvati and Lavender began to tango.

Lee, Dean, Kenneth, and about four other boys Lydia didn’t know began doing a southern style line dance.

Seamus and Neville began to sing a sea shanty that sounded surprisingly nice. 

“I can’t believe you two did this.”

“What’s this, Freddie? Does our princess have no faith?!”

“I believe she hasn’t, Georgie.”

“What ever shall we do?”

Closing her book, she stood and held out her arms to them. 

“Prove your worthiness to me, by showing me your next prank. Maybe, if you’re really lucky, you’ll get your birthday presents early.”

Clicking his tongue, Fred chided, “Demanding, this princess is. And teasing us, how rude!”

“But she makes a fair point, Freddie,” George sighed, “How else can we prove ourselves?”

“To the mischief mansion!”

“What is that, your bed?” Lydia snorted, shrieking when she was abruptly pulled up the stairs. 

(It  _ was _ George’s bed.)

“Give us our presents!” Fred whined, “Please, Princess?”

She tapped her chin in thought.

“Hm, I don’t know. You won’t turn eighteen for another four minutes. Is it immoral to give you them now?”

George grabbed her around the waist and tackled her to the floor.

"Lydia, don’t betray us like this. After five years together? After all we’ve done together?”

She kicked him.

“No. Wait your two more minutes!”

“But-”

“Patience, pea brains.”

Fred sighed and flopped onto the floor next to them.

“But we’re so  _ old _ . Why, I can feel myself growing a beard!”

“No, it’s still bare as Ron’s chin.”

George tickled her for the insult, and she shrieked.

“Just- ah - seventeen seconds!”

Her wand began to go off seconds later, and George leapt off her.

“Ooh, presents!”

Laughing at them, Lydia grabbed blindly underneath Lee’s bed for the presents she’d hidden there 

“You put them under Lee’s  _ bed?! _ ” yelled George, indignant.

She only grinned at him, then handed over a large wrapped present.

“Um, this one is for both of you. I know you don’t actually share everything, but it was fitting. And it’s something that you’ll both have for when you move into your shop.”

She wrung her hands and watched them tear into it.

Fred was first to get a peek, and gasped. 

“Lydia...this…”

“Bloody hell.”

She laughed. 

“I can’t tell if that was a good swear or not.”

Fred ripped the rest of the wrapping off, and held up the big piece of wood so they could all see. 

On it, were pasted photographs of the three of them through the years. Some were from Lydia’s first time visiting the Burrow, taken by Arthur. Others were from this year at Grimmauld Place, and most were taken by themselves or their friends. But there was one Lydia had taken herself. She’d had to be stealthy about it, but she had set the camera up in a timer just a few nights before when the twins were showing her a pranking product. 

She stands in the middle of the frame, then twins holding her between them. They all are looking up in wonder at the fireworks above them, in the shape of a lion. 

At the very top of the wooden slab, were words carved:  **_A Princess Needs Her Jesters._ **

“It’s cheesy, I know. But it’s true, and I wanted you two to remember that, when I’m not always around.”

George looked like he was about to tackle her in a hug again, so Fred held his arm as a warning. 

“This is the best, Lydia! We’ll hang it up in the kitchen, or something. Somewhere we’ll see it when we go to stress eat while we miss you.”

She snorted out a laugh. 

“Don’t miss me too much, you might make yourselves ill with your awful taste in candy. Acid pops? Yuck.”

George’s mouth popped open in mock offense, but before he said anything, Lydia leaned against him in a half hug. 

“I’m really gonna miss y’all. It’s boring without you around.”

“We’ll miss you too. But you’re just a couple years behind us, then you can join the shop or whatever else you want to do. We’ll be right there, and you’ll visit us lots.”

“And when you have little baby Lydia’s they’ll visit us, and we’ll send them home with sweets and explosives.”

She laughed. 

“Like good uncles.”

They nodded goofily, then fell silent. 

None of them wanted to admit their lives would eventually lead them away from each other, because they didn’t think they’d survive that. But for this night, laughing in the safety of Fred and George's dorm, they could pretend everything would stay the way it was. 

Hours later, when Lydia went up to bed, Parvati was still dancing in her sleep. 

* * *

Lydia’s walking with Luna and Neville on their way back from petting Thestrals when Lee comes sprinting towards them from the inside of the castle.

“Come on, you’ve gotta see this! Hurry, hurry!”

He grabs onto Luna’s hand, and they all sprint after him, into the Entrance Hall. Nearly the entire school is there, watching Umbridge cause a scene. In front of her, covered in ash and bits of Stinksap, stand Fred and George.

“What happened?” Lydia whispered, leaning into Lee’s space so no one else would hear.

“They made a swamp in the middle of the Charms corridor. Bloody brilliant, I tell you, and Colin’s got photos.”

Filch came elbowing his way through the crowd and next to Umbridge.

“I’ve got the forms, Headmistress!” he cried gleefully, waving pieces of parchment under her nose, “The whips are set up and begging for use! Oh, let me do it now…”

“Very good, Argus,” Umbridge praised like one would a well behaved dog. She turned to Fred and George again, neither of whom looked scared in the slightest. “You two, are about to find out what happens to wrongdoers in my school.”

“Nah, don’t think we are,” Fred told her.

Tipping an imaginary hat, George added, “Thanks for the offer though.”

Lydia turned to suppress her laugh in Neville’s shoulder. He pressed his own laugh into her hair.

“George,” Fred said, straightening so he was taller, “I think we’ve outgrown full-time education.”

“I couldn’t agree more, my dear Fred!”

“Time to test our talents in the real world, do you reckon?”

“Definitely.”

Before Umbridge could react, they raised their arms, and in sync, yelled, “Accio brooms!”

There was a ruckus from what sounded like several rooms away, and Lydia forced Lee to duck just in time for about fifty brooms to zoom above their heads and fall at the feet of Fred and George.

They picked up their brooms, one of them still attached to its metal clasp, and mounted them.

“We won’t be seeing you,” Fred told Umbridge.

“Yeah, don’t keep in touch,” George added. To the rest of them, he yelled, “But come by our shop to buy a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs! Ninety-three, Diagon Alley, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes - our new premises!”

“Special discounts to anyone that’ll use our products to mess with the resident toad!” Added George in a loud stage whisper.

“STOP THEM!” Shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. Fred and George went crashing through a glass window, and into the sky.

They dipped back in a moment later, and looked to Peeves.

“Give her hell from us, Peeves!”

He saluted them, and they took off again.

Lydia watched them for a moment, then felt Lee nudge her.

“They said to have you meet them at your dorm window.”

Smiling at him, she sprinted out of the Great Hall and to the staircase for the next floor. Then the next, and the next.

By the time she made it up to her room, she practically collapsed as she tried to catch her breath.

When she looked up the twins were floating outside the main window.

“Why the  _ fuck _ did you choose the seventh floor? I’m so out of breath!”

Fred grinned.

“You are always saying you want to get in better shape.”

“Oh, shut your-”

George interrupted, “Not that I don’t adore your fond insults, but we’re on a time crunch.”

She stood up from the floor and quickly crossed the few aces to the window. Resting her hands on the open sill, she sighed.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

Fred shrugged as much as he could while being on a broomstick. “You could come with, you’re definitely brilliant enough to quit school.”

“I reckon you could get your OWLs and NEWTs now if you wanted,” George added, winking at her.

“But I’m sixteen, I don’t have a choice.”

“Princess, you always have a choice. We’ll make it happen if that’s what you want.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Nuh uh,” Fred said, “What does Lydia McBrien want, hm? Focus on you.”

“I wanna go with you, but I’ve gotta stay and take care of everybody. If I’m gonna get away from my dad and take care of Nicky, I need a full education. I wish I could come, though.”

They saluted her with sad smiles.

“It’s alright, Princess, the offer stands.”

“And we understand. Stay safe, alright?”

She nodded, reaching a hand out for them to squeeze. “I’ll give Umbridge hell.”

“We never had a doubt,” Fred promised, letting go of her hand. “We’ll see you this summer, yeah?”

After one last wave, they took off again, and Lydia stumbled over to her bed.

Grabbing her pillow and stuffing her face into it, she screamed. Stoner mewed at her in confusion and she looked at him.

“Hey, baby. I’m okay. Just a little sad they’re gone.”

Stoner leapt onto her shoulders and lapped the hot tears off her face. He let out a sad meow.

“I know, I miss them too.”

* * *

Lydia had fallen asleep easier that night than she can remember happening any place besides between the twins. The sun hadn’t even set when Lydia had barely pulled on her pajamas before falling asleep. She supposed it was the - quite frankly concerning - amount of crying she’d done once Fred and George had left.

She was woken when it was still dark out, the only thing illuminating the room being Peeves’ tinge of glow that seemed to emanate off him.

“Peevesie, what are you doing in the girls’ dorm?”

“Peevesie needs Kiddie’s help.’

She groaned.

“What are you gonna do if I go back to bed right now?”

“Scream!”

Sighing, she propelled herself onto her feet.

“Yeah alright, where to?”

He glided through the doors of her dorm and quickly down the stairs, and she had to run to catch up. All she had on were socks, so when he led her out of the portrait hole, she hissed at the cold of the stone floor.

“Where are we going?!” She whispered.

“Kiddie needs fuel! All pranksters need fuel!”

He led her into the Great Hall, which had a plate of her favorites ready at her usual spot.

Not bothering to ask because she was  _ way _ too tired, she sat and dug in.

“We need to give Toadie hell. We promised.”

“We did. Why are we teaming up?”

He put on a show of offense.

“Kiddie doesn’t like Peevesie anymore? Peevesie’s poor heart!”   
“You don’t have organs,” She reminded him casually, then adding, “I’ve got a few ideas, but I wanna hear yours.”

Peeves had more than a few ideas, it turned out. But really, she shouldn’t have been surprised. 

By the time he finished listing them off, Lydia had both a full stomach and a healthy amount of fear towards the poltergeist.

“Okay so we shouldn’t push her into the gaping mouth of a giant selkie, but I’m all for staining her skin permanently in polka dots. How about purple and orange? Those are Fred and George’s favorite colors.”

Peeves clapped his hand, then looked at her expectantly.

“Okay, my ideas aren’t as gruesome, but I’m sure you’ll make them more threatening. Lee and I are planning to dose Ubridge with some herbs so she’ll fall asleep in her lessons. She’ll get addicted to the concoction because of a certain herb I’m adding, and then all the students will write home about it. The parents will be furious.”

Peeves yawned.

“I was also planning to have Angelina brew some Essence of Insanity for me. We’ll dose Umbridge with it, and she’ll go even more insane. O think it’ll be funny.”

Peeves nodded.

“Peevesie likes insanity! We’ll have a prank everyday!”

“Wait. We should leave one free day every so often. She’ll get accustomed to the pranks, and so the not pranking will be enough to keep her on edge, it’ll be a prank of its own.”

She didn’t get an answer to that, because when a group of early rising Hufflepuffs came in, Peeves dumped a bottle of syrup on her head.

“PEEVES!”

She stands up, breakfast mostly finished, and chases after him as he cackles.

She’s been running for a few minutes when he runs, quite literally, into a Hufflepuff.

“Oh, sorry!”

“No,” Lydia sighs, blinking a bit of syrup out of her eyes, “That was my fault. Sorry.”

The Hufflepuff, Daichi Amano, Lydia realizes, frowns.

“Um, is there a food fight going on? Why are you in pajamas?”

“No food fight,” Lydia sighs, taking Daichi’s hand to stand up from the floor. “Peeves dumped syrup on me. As for the pajamas, I came down early and didn’t put my clothes on yet. Sleepy brain, you know.”

“Oh. Well let me help you out. We can go to the Prefect bathroom on this floor.”

She didn’t let Lydia say no, and kept a grip on Lydia’s sticky hand as she led her to a bathroom.

Daichi switched on the taps and asked, “Do you want to smell like oranges, jasmines, or the forest?”

“Oranges?”

After a few moments of waiting for the swimming pool sized tub to fill, Daichi pushed her gently in the direction of the tub, and turned around as Lydia stripped and sunk into the bubbly water.

“Um, I’m in.” Lydia said uncertainly, not completely sure what she was supposed to do. Would Daichi be leaving now, did she want to stay as a watch out? What was the protocol for being taken to a Prefect bathroom by a girl you barely knew when you were covered in syrup?

Daichi turned around and smiled.

“Perfect! Here, I’ll wash your hair for you.”

“Oh, actually-”

Daichi brought a cup into the water and gently dumped it over Lydia’s head.

It was so warm and soothing Lydia couldn’t speak for a moment. When she could, she said, “Daichi, I don’t like other people touching my hair.”

“Oh. Well that’s okay! You can do that and I’ll wash the syrup off your back if you’re okay with that? I can’t imagine it’s very easy to scrub your own back.”

“It’s - It’s not, actually. Thank you.”

She leaned forward a little, thankful the bubbles covered everything she didn’t want seen, and undid the plaits her hair was always out in while she slept.

She had just finished unwinding her hair when Daichi began to carefully scrub her back, and asked, “So, how are you doing with the Weasley twins gone?”

“Oh, as well as anyone else. It’s boring, you know?”

“You can lie if you want, but feel free to tell me how you really feel. Everyone knows how close you were to them. I mean, if it weren’t for your age and looks, one would think you were their triplet.”

Lydia thought that over for a minute, and only responded once she’d gotten the shampoo into her hair.

“I miss them a lot. I don’t know who I am without them. After so long, your personalities get intertwined, you know.”

“I don’t, but I see what you mean. I’ve never had any friends that were so close. But my sister, Mayumi, is already the most important person to me. She’s only two months old, but I’m pretty sure I’d do anything for her.”

“That’s how I feel about Fred and George. They’re my people, you know? If anything happened to them, I’d do anything to get them back.”

“That’s not a bad thing, though. That’s just love. And I can tell they love you back. I think anyone with half a brain knows that. It was always obvious you were one of theirs.”

“One of theirs?”

“Yeah. The Weasleys, they’re the kind of people that see someone, decide they’re theirs, and they protect them with everything. Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, they're like that. And Ron Weasley’s like that with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Weasleys just have this  _ thing _ about them, that makes them claim people as theirs. It’s not a bad thing, they don’t think you’re something to own, but you’re their person. Does that make sense?”

Lydia dunked her head to rinse her hair, and when she resurfaced, answered, “Yeah, I think. They just...care.”

“Exactly. I wish I had a Weasley, but I’ve got my sister, so that’s good too.”

Daichi set the cup she had been using to rinse Lydia’s back on the tub’s ledge.

“Do you know any house elves that can get your clothes? I’m afraid I don’t have any Gryffindor ties. I’ve got a uniform you can borrow, though.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Rosy?”

Rosy popped up next to her on the tub ledge and beamed at her.

“Lydi’s! Oh, how Rosy has missed you!”

“Hi, Rosy. It’s really good to see you, too. I was wondering if you could get my uniform from my dorm? Peeves dumped syrup on me and Daichi here helped me clean up, but we forgot about what I would change into.”

“Rosy can do that.”

“Brill! Oh, and do you want to eat lunch today? We can catch up. I really have missed you.”

“Rosy is looking forward to it!”   
She popped away, and a second later, Lydia’s clothes were sitting on the ledge waiting for her.

Daichi turned while she got changed, and when she turned around again, Lydia was securing her ponytail with a pin.

“I’ll walk you to get your things, Lydia.”

“Oh, thank you, Daichi. What lesson have you got first?”

“Charms.”

Lydia threw her head back with a groan.

“Ugh, lucky. I’ve got History.”

“It’s not that bad, it’s just Binns makes it boring. The stuff itself is actually interesting.”

Lydia had to concede that point. “Yes, that’s true. But I wish we could have a good professor, like Lupin.”

“Oh, I loved him! He’d be a good history professor, I bet. He always made things exciting.”

By the time Daichi left her at the Fat Lady’s portrait, Lydia felt like shed made a friend. She still missed the twins, but at least she had friends.

* * *

It’s the first warm day in May that Ginny decides they all have to go swimming. It’s not technically allowed, but it’s also not prohibited, so they grab their swimsuits and run down to the grounds, picking up their friends on the way.

Neville, they’d had to pick up from the greenhouse, so he sits out for a little while, claiming he would rather get used to the rare sunshine before venturing into the water.

Ducking out of the water splashing contest Terry and Heidi were having, Lydia swam to the edge of the lake where Luna was already wading.

She looked up at Neville, who was talking to a cactus in a pot.

“Hey, Neville!”

He glanced at her, and came to sit a couple paces away from the water.

“Hi. Having fun?”

She nodded, grinning.

“Yeah, it's actually really nice. Would be nicer if you joined…”

Luna pouted.

“Please, Neville? Even Lydia wants you to join!”

“I’ve been telling you for the past half hour, Luna, I don’t have a swimsuit."

“I don’t have one either,” Padma called, pointing to the t-shirt that was plastered to her skin by water. “I’m wearing Terry’s shirt!”

Terry stopped his splashing to scowl at her, letting Heidi get him in the face with a wave of water.

“OI! YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT, MARCH!”

Lydia grinned, looking back to Neville. He was looking at his cactus with a longing look.

“But Bruce might be lonely."

“Oh my god, you are adorable.” Lydia whispered, not being noticed by anyone but Luna, who smiled.

Finally, after what seemed like a very hard debate with himself, Neville handed Bruce’s pot off to Colin, who was sitting with his camera, clicking away.

“Take care of Bruce, please.”

Colin smiled.

“Sure thing! Bruce’ll get his own photoshoot.”

Then, Neville began to unbutton and strip off his shirt.

Vaguely, Lydia noticed Padma complaining about girls not being allowed to take off their shirts, and  _ holy shit _ . Neville had gotten fit.

Luna nudged her, and that’s when Lydia realized Neville was speaking.

“-you mind?”

“S-Sorry, what?”

He frowned.

“Switching spell? You’re the best at them.”

“Oh, oh yeah, sure.”

She did the spell, and heard Colin giggling.

“Colin Creevey, I swear if you don’t delete that I’ll turn you into Trevor’s toad-husband!”

“Can't, it’s one of those you have to get the film developed!”

“Come here!”

“No! I’m on plant duty!”

“Oh I’ll give you duty-”

Neville stepped in next to her and laid a hand on her arm.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” She yelled, at the same time as Colin yelled, “The best thing!”

* * *

The last of May came soon for two reasons: One, Lydia had been studying for OWLs in almost all her free time. Two, the rest of that free time was spent setting up her favorite prank of the year.

This prank involved begging her grandfather to send as many sticky notes as he could get his hands on, writing something jus for Umbridge on those, making them invisible to just Umbridge, then duplicating them with Ginny, Luna, and Katie's help. But that was only the first half of the prank. The second half involved secretly brewing a potion called Babbling Beverage, adding feathers known to control the drinker’s words, and then secretly feeding it to Umbridge. The hard part was sneaking into her classroom and closet to stick the notes on her clothes and walls.

It was all worth it though, when she walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, drank her dosed tea, and then stood to make a speech.

Ginny hissed over the table, “I didn’t know she was making a speech today. Did you do something else?”

Lydia shook her head.

“No, but it’ll make this even grander. Col, get your camera rolling and hidden.”

He grinned and hid the camera in his bag, the top peeking out and aimed towards Umbridge’s podium.

Girls and boys, I have something very important to tell you,” Her eyes glazed over just enough for them to shine, and she said, “I am a blood supremacist who takes joy in mutilating children and I eat cats.”

The hall erupted in a mixture of confusion and laughter, and one of the professors tried to pull Umbridge away from the podium. Professor McGonagall pushed them away, a small smile on her face.

“I enjoy hurting children!” Umbridge told them, looking panicked and slightly insane. “I eat kittens!"

They started laughing, and she could see a few students pull out parchment and quill, already writing their guardians.

When Umbridge finally realized she should walk away from the podium, everyone gasped at what was written on her back:

**_Minister’s Secret Lover <3_ **

She ran as fast as she could, but Colin was faster.

He chased after her, cackling like only a fourteen year old boy could in chaos.

The day went on as such, with gasps and whispers erupting with each glance at Umbridge. She didn’t understand why it was happening, but she was upset and had taken to snapping at anyone looking in her direction. There were so many owls sent out to guardians that the Owlery was empty, quite a feat, according to Angelina.

When she put on an extra robe because everyone was pointing and whispering about the notes on her back, Lydia couldn’t help a feral grin.

She had doused that particular robe while she’d been in Umbridge’s closet. But not with anything, no. She’d doused it with Rosemary, an herb that all cats seemed to have a personal vendetta against.

Cats followed her around all day, hissing and scratching at any part of her they could get. Umbridge was in tears the entire day, asking the kittens why they hated her. Even Mrs. Norris was doing it, something that broke Flich’s heart.

At dinner, Lee came hurtling up to Lydia in the common room.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Who else would it be?’

He gave a laugh, squeezing her tight in a hug.

“The cats, how’d you do that? I saw McGonagall looking like she was tempted to sniff her!”

“Rosemary, doused her clothes in it. Cats hate the smell.”

“Merlin, you’re brilliant! Okay, and the notes? Why can’t she see them?”

Lydia grinned.

“I put a charm keyed to her spit on them so she can’t see them. Lucky for us, she spits a lot when she talks.”

“You’re so brilliant! Okay, I’m gonna go send my memory to the twins. They’ll be so proud.”

She laughed.

“Are you really?”

“Well, not the  _ whole _ day,” Lee winked, “I had quite the steamy dream, you see -”

“Stop talking or I’m telling Angelina it was about her!”

He squeaked and sprinted away, leaving Lydia laughing.

Peeves suddenly appeared, looking maniacal.

“Oooh! Peevesie is so proud! You could have been a Marauder, yes you could have!’

“I know two of them.”

Peeves very slowly looked at her.

“Kiddie is surprising.”

He left then, and Lydia couldn’t help the giggle she let out.

Today had been perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loves, this chapter was probably the lightest we've had in a long while! I hoped you enjoyed it :)  
> notes:  
> \- we love Daichi in this household  
> -Lydia finally realizing she thinks Neville is adorable and wow, he's fit? yeah, that happened.  
> \- please take a moment to imagine Colin racing after Umbridge, camera clicking away, and laughing like crazy.   
> -you best believe a little scene is coming with the reactions of Fred and George to that memory. (as well as possibly Simon and Remus?? maybe.)
> 
> words: 5186  
> Next Week: Harry sees Simon at the Ministry, and Lydia proves she's a better fighter


	10. The Order of Not Telling Harry Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: torture, cruciatus curse, blood, mentions of entrails

She’d just finished with her exams and had been sitting in the courtyard reading when a girl sits down in front of her. 

The girl waits patiently while Lydia marks her place, and when she looks up, the girl waves. 

“Er, hi. How are you?”

Lydia smiled back awkwardly.

“Hi, you’re Maeve, right?”

She nodded. 

“Yeah! I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“It’s not everyday I actively fight the ‘ _ High Inquisitor _ ’” Lydia says in a mocking tone, making air quotations. “What’s up, Maeve? Is she bothering you still?” 

“It’s not too bad. Um, Professor Flitwick told me I didn’t have to, but I made you some sweets as a present for helping me. He says a thanks was enough and you wouldn’t think you’d done anything great, but you did. So. Here.”

She thrust a bag of chocolate fudge squares at Lydia, who happily popped one into her mouth. 

“Thanks, Maeve. Professor Flitwick’s right, you didn’t have to do this. But I really appreciate it. Do you want to sit with me while I read?”

Maeve nodded happily and settled against the tree Lydia was meant against with a quiet sigh. 

“You’re nice, which is surprising because you looked scary when I met you.”

Lydia laughed and opened up her book. 

“I don’t imagine anyone looks very nice around Umbridge. She brings out the worst in a person.”

They were quiet for some time then, which was broken when Lydia suddenly put her book down. 

“What is it?”

Lydia fished the necklace out of her shirt to look at the charms. She hovered her hand over each of them. 

“One of my friends is calling me, just a second, please.”

A second more, and she realized it was Luna’s moon charm. 

“Lu, are you alright?”

“For now. Harry’s godfather might be in trouble and we’re about to break into the Ministry and save him. But someone might get hurt.”

“Did you see it?” 

“Kind of. You know Vision is always blurry, but there’s a lot of sad.”

“Where are y’all at?”

“Hm, right now Ginny and Neville and I are running to catch up with the others. Ginny, where are we running?”

A panting voice called out, “H-Harry and Hermione. Forest. Umbridge.”

Luna hummed. 

“Oh, right. Harry and Hermione took Umbridge to the forest, so we’re going there now. You should come with. Bye Lydia!”

“Wait but -” The warmth abruptly died off in the charm and Lydia groaned. “Damn it.”

“ _ Woah _ ,” Maeve gasped, “That’s so cool!”

Lydia smiled. 

“Thanks. I’ve gotta go, will you do me a favor and take my book for me? I need someone to keep it safe.”

Maeve took the book from her hands and clutched it close to her chest reverently. 

“Mhm. But...are you really breaking into the Ministry?”

Lydia heaved a sigh. 

“I’m gonna try not to. If I’m not back by dinner will you tell Professor Flitwick where I’ve gone? Just him.”

“Okay. Good luck dismantling our government.”

“I’m not - whatever, thanks.”

As she runs, she makes a quick pit stop at Gryffindor Tower, and easily goes into Harry’s dorm without hesitation. 

Rifling through his trunk, she finds the mirror Simon had given him. 

“Simon Potter-Zimmer.”

“Bambi, hi - you’re not Harry.”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “Correct, fifty points to Gryffindor. I'm in a time crunch here, so are you currently being tortured in the Ministry by Voldecunt?”

There are a few chuckles she can hear in the background, and a gasp that sounds like Mrs. Weasley. 

“No, a meeting. Why?”

“God fucking  _ shit! _ ” She swears, then says, “Well thank god you’re not dying, but now I have to go save your godson from doing something stupid. Tell Dumbledore and the rest of your lot that next time to fucking tell a kid when he thinks Voldecunt might send them a vision of the person they love most being tortured, yeah? Great.”

She doesn’t hear a reply as she abruptly hangs up, already sprinting back down to the ground and towards the forest. 

By the time she gets there, her friends are mounting Thestrals. 

“Harry, Simon’s fine!”

He turns to glare at her. 

“Kreacher -”

“He  _ lied.  _ I just spoke to him, and Simon is currently bored in a meeting. Get off the damn Thestral.”

“I’m not letting him die!”

She hands the mirror off to Neville, who looks at it in confusion, and then she tackles Harry to the ground. 

“Oi, get  _ off! _ ”

“Not until you listen!”

He rolls on top of her and goes to stand, so she kicks him in the back of his knee. He collapses, and she pins him by sitting on his stomach. 

“Goddammit, just  _ listen.  _ The mirror is right there. Yeah, that thing he gave you that you haven’t used in ages. He misses you, by the way.”

Harry struggled under her. 

“Listen you asshole! Simon is fine, I just spoke to him. He’s in a meeting bored out of his mind right next to Remus. He’s wearing an awful purple shirt with more frills than Lavender’s Yule Ball dress. Now stop kicking me and act like you don’t share a single brain cell with Ron!”

“Oi!” Ron yelled, but they ignored him. 

“I have to make sure! He’s all I’ve got left! Get off!”

“Then  _ use the mirror! _ Don’t go gallivanting into the Ministry blindly!”

Neville held the mirror out automatically, and Harry took it. 

“Siri-Simon. Simon Potter-Zimmer.”

Simon's face popped up for the second time in a half hour, and he waved. 

“Hey, Prongslet! I hear you’ve staged a rescue mission.”

“Y-You’re okay?! Where are you?” 

“Your favorite dungeon! The gloomiest of the roomiest. The-”

“That’s enough,” Lydia rolled her eyes, not that he could see since she was in Harry’s stomach still. “Convince him to stay here so I can get up. He’s too bony to be comfortable.”

“...Are you sitting on my godson?”

Harry turned the mirror, and Lydia waved. 

“Hello! I’m glad you’ve not been tortured.”

There was a disappointed sigh and then Remus was staring at them. 

“Stay at school. Everyone is fine, and he is not going anywhere until we have determined Voldemort is not at the Ministry. He has no business at the Ministry anyway, so you needn’t worry. Please, just stay at Hogwarts.”

“What if he makes him?”

“Bambi, if it makes you feel better, I won’t leave for a little while. Dumbledore is at the Ministry already, making sure Voldemort’s not there, and once he makes sure, I’ll stay here. Alright?”

“...Alright.”

Simon smiled. 

“Good. Now go get that bloody nose looked at and play some Quidditch or something.”

“Can’t,” Harry mumbled, “Umbridge took my broom.”

“She  _ what?!  _ No, I’ll get it back...Er, Remus will. Because I’m staying here. Yay.”

Lydia snorted at his deadpan expression and got off Harry, wiping at her own blood of a cut on her cheek. 

“Come on, Harry. Madam Pomfrey’s just been  _ begging  _ to see you.”

“I think that’s a lie.”

“Yeah, well,” Lydia shrugged as they began to walk inside, “at least one of us can lie.”

“I can lie!”

“Baby, you absolutely cannot.”

* * *

Maeve makes her way to the table Lydia and her friends sit at, sitting beside Natalie with a huff.

“Hi, Miss Lydia.”

“Hi, Maeve. Did you keep my book safe?”

Maeve held it out. 

“I did! Er, I was wondering if you could help me with a problem?”

Lydia absentmindedly handed her a bowl of cereal.

“Hm?”

“So Umbridge gave me a detention-”

Lydia’s focus was suddenly entirely and scarily devoted to the first year.

“Oh? And what did you do?”

Maeve sighed.

“She got mad because I told Mr. Filch he couldn’t string me up by my ankles. But I have really weak ankles-”

Lydia tapped her nails on the table, cutting her off.

“Right, weak ankles. Have you gone yet?”

“Yes, and it was a weird detention, not one I’ve had before. I know you said the worst is cauldrons, but-”

Lee frowned too, breaking off his conversation with Alicia.

“Wait, when did you tell her that?”

“Before my last detention with her.” She hadn’t even turned her head to look at him when he spoke, which probably should have been telling of her anger at the situation. “Maeve, love, what did she have you do?”

“Well, that’s the thing. She told me to write lines, but when I asked to borrow a quill, she gave me a weird one. It was black, and had no ink, except when I wrote, it suddenly did, except that ink was coming from my hand. And I don’t want to call it blood, because that’s impossible, right? But I think it might have been.”

Lydia very slowly and gently turned her hand over on the table between them.

“Could I see your hand, please?”

Maeve took it from her pocket and showed Lydia. It wasn’t bandaged at all, and the words were lightly visible.

**_I will not complain._ **

Lydia retracted her hand carefully, and asked, “Would you be okay with Colin and Natalie taking you to Madam Pomfrey? She’s our healer, and I need to do something to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Neville’s hand was on her arm now, cautioning, but she barely felt it through the rage humming in her veins. 

“Okay, Miss Lydia.”

“Good, I’ll come visit you when I’m done, alright?”

“Okay.”

As she left, Colin and Natalie bracketing her sides, Ginny asked, “Lydia? What’s with that look?”

Angelina grinned.

“That’s called retribution, love. And I think Lydia’s got plenty of it to dole out.”

Lee leaned forward to look at her from the side.

“What’s the plan?”

Lydia craned her neck down to the other end of the table, where Harry sat with Ron and Hermione.

“You’ll see. Everyone will. For now, I have to get myself an ally that Umbridge will do anything to reach.”

“And then?” Alicia asked.

“I need to make sure she can’t.”

Unfortunately, Lydia can’t put her plan into action until her lunch break, when she hurries to eat and then goes in search of Harry.

She finds him in the common room, fruitlessly trying to finish his charms essay due the next morning.

“Harry,” she says, sitting next to him on the floor, “I have a proposition.”

He looks up at her.

“And I’ve got a Charms essay.”

“If you put that aside and help me, I’ll give you mine to sum up. You just have to make it seem less mine or Flitwick’ll know.”

He looks at her in surprise, which is fair. She rarely lets anyone aside from Neville look at her work, especially charms. It’s sacred to her.

“Yeah, alright. What can I do?”

“I’ve got a plan to oust Umbridge from Hogwarts, but I need your help.”

“No way, how? And what?”

She shrugs, then sits down beside him, glancing around the almost empty common room.

“Okay, so you and I are publicly acquaintances. People have noticed we tolerate each other,”

“Is that all we do?” he jokes, “I mean, they might have seen us hug. Isn’t that friend territory?”

She grins at him.

“But Umbridge isn’t that perceptive. I’ve not been given a love triangle article with you yet, so I’d wager we’re more subtle than you think.”

He shrugs, because it’s true. 

“Okay, so what’s the plan?”

“You’re going to stage some big, dramatic, public argument with me. I'm talking full on screaming and friendship ending fight, okay? Come up to me at breakfast, just start screaming. Throw some juice in my face.”

“Lydia, no! I can’t do that.”

“No, really, do it! I’ll run from the hall crying, but it’s all gonna be fake, okay? We’re not really fighting.”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t want to hurt you, fake or not.”

“Harry,” she says, and reached out her scarred hand for his own. He stiffens, before taking it. “You can’t hurt me, okay? How many mock duels and wrestling matches have we had? I’m tougher than I look, okay? But Umbridge won’t know that. I’ll go to her office later, and I’ll spill a fake secret of yours. I’ll say I overheard you and Hermione talking about a weapon Dumbledore left. It's such tantalizing bait to her that she won’t be able to help going for it.”

“Then? I don’t like it, but then what?”

“I’ll lead her to the centaurs. They’ll kill or maim her for sure. And I have protection, if she does something. I know a spell that can expel a person’s guts, and if that’s not a deterrent then what is?”

“ _ Kill?! _ ”

“Yeah, I’m what Lee calls hardcore. You in?”

A sigh.

“Just one death?”

“Just one, Umbridge.”

“Oh, hell,” Harry sighs, “I’m in.”

Lydia lets herself grin and cheers, “Atta boy!”

It’s a fairly simple plan, really. She thinks it through the night before until it’s no more than a simple phrase she could write without any thought.

_ Eat, fight, run, cry, fake betrayal, centaurs, alibi. Eat, fight, run, cry, fake betrayal, centaurs, alibi. Eat,Fight,Run,Cry,FakeBetrayal,Centaurs,Alibi.  _

She wakes, and all through the routine of getting dressed and pulling back her hair, all the way down to the dining hall, she repeats it.

_ Eat, fight, run, cry, fake betrayal, centaurs, alibi.  _

As she smiles with her half awake friends, as she accepts the bowl of porridge and blueberries from Neville, as she makes sure Natalie and Maeve eat, she repeats it.

_ Eat, fight, run, cry, fake betrayal, centaurs, alibi.  _

Then, Harry walks in and she thinks, ‘ _ Step one, accomplished. Step two...here I come.’ _

She doesn’t pay attention to what Harry’s made up their fight about, but she catches a few words here and there. “How dare-” “And you knew-” “I can’t even-” “Take that, you-” She notices, from across the table, Katie is gearing up to slap him, so Lydia makes eye contact with Alicia and smirks. Alicia, thankfully, is a genius and stops Katie.

Then, Harry dumps her own porridge, still steaming, on the front of her shirt.

With the heat emanating off the food, it’s not hard to get tears to spring from her eyes.

She stands up, and has to stop herself from laughing when the porridge drops to the ground with an audible  _ splat! _

“I can't believe you, Harry Potter!” She yells, already sobbing because she can fake cry, thank you very much, and then sprints from the hall.

She waits at the doorway of the hall, and Katie and Alicia come storming through just a few beats after she’s regained her breath.

When she sees their angry faces, she snorts.

“I can’t believe that prat!” Katie yells, but Alicia’s watching Lydia closely, she can feel the scrutiny.

“You planned that,” She says, looking like she’s unsure what exactly to feel. “He’s your ally, your bait. That was all fake.”

Lydia lets loose a grin.

“Well, the pain from that porridge isn’t. We planned for him to hit me with juice or something, but I guess he got caught up in it all.”

Katie looks like she wants to shake Lydia, and she hisses, “You insane, girl! I can’t believe this!”

“Believe it baby, because steps two through four of my plan are completed. Onto step five.”

“...What’s step five?”

Step five had to wait at least a day, but Lydia waited a day and a half just to be safe. (Well, as safe as you can be in Umbridge’s version of Hogwarts.)

In the Gryffindor common room before she would finish off the plan, Lydia began to mess up her appearance, tugging at her shirt a little to make sure she looked a little less put together, and thus defenseless.

Luna skipped over to her, and they traded ties.

“You’ll need this. Ravenclaws are received better.”

Lydia smiled.

“Thank you, Lu. Stay here, alright?”

Luna nodded and hoped off to join Ginny beside the fire.

Harry stood up from his spot by Ron, distracted as he was looking at Hermione, and carefully made his way to her.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to get it on your face. You’re not burnt, right?”

She swatted his hands away from her face.

“I’m just fine, Lightning. Brilliant acting, by the way. I worried I had royally pissed you off.”

Instead of looking comforted, Harry grimaced.

“Just...are you sure I can’t come with?”

“No, I mean it. Stay here, you’ll need an alibi. I’ve learned that entrail curse, so even though I don’t fancy seeing hers, if needed I’ll use it. Now I’ll need to hex you so no one suspects anything, alright?”

“Wait, what-”

“Sorry, but it’s just a tripping jinx!”

She jabbed her wand at him, stayed long enough to spot Lee’s alarm, and left out the portrait hole.

Thinking of how angry she was about Umbridge and the overall state of the world, Lydia pasted a look between anger and sadness on her face, and knocked on the door of Umbridge’s face just as tears began to fall.

She’d always been the best of the entire Company at manipulation for the sole reason of being a talented fake crier. She never used it much, mainly because the action of crying annoyed her. It gave you a stuffy nose, and if you didn’t wipe the tears away quick enough, your face began to itch. It was annoying. But, needs must.

Umbridge opened the door, looking annoyed. When she saw her, she pasted on one of her fake but still dangerous smiles.

“What is it? Why is your tie done so messily?”

It wasn’t tied messily, thanks Umbridge, but she supposed the woman just liked to be annoying.

“P-Professor,” she cried, “I have i-information about-about Harry P-Potter.”

Umbridge smiled for real then, and asked, “Ah, you’re the girl he mercilessly attacked, yes? You  _ poor thing!  _ Come, let’s get some tea.”

“Yes, I-I am, Ma’am.”

She followed Umbridge to the woman’s desk, where her own tea was already half drunk. She made up a new pot for Lydia.

“W-What’s that you’re putting in?”

“Oh,” Umbridge sounded surprised she’d been noticed slipping the vial in. “Just honey, dear. I think you deserve it, poor thing.”

Lydia gave her a watery smile, and wordlessly told herself not to drink any by accident.

Once Umbridge had sat herself down, drinking from her mug, she gestured towards Lydia’s.

“Go on, drink up. Tell me what’s going on.”

Lydia pretended to sip some, keeping her lips sealed.

When she sat the mug down again, she licked her lip as if to catch the leftover tea. 

There was none.

“I overheard him t-talking to those h-heathens he calls friends. Th-they mentioned Dumbledore and a w-weapon?”

“Where?! Show me!”   
Umbridge yelled suddenly, leaning forward towards Lydia.

Lydia didn’t move, simply said, “The centaur h-herd, m-ma’am. The centaurs are guarding it. But I-I’m sure  _ you  _ could persuade them, couldn’t you?”

She was laying it on thick, and Lydia knew it. But Umbridge was lapping it up like a thirsty cat faced with a dish of milk.

“Of course I can! But...oh, yes, it’s necessary. You know that...don’t you, dear? This is necessary.”

“P-Professor?” She didn’t have to fake the confusion, and she hated it. She hated not knowing.

“You understand, you do! Can’t have anyone knowing… And you’ve been with Potter for so long… Cornelius shall forgive me.”

Lydia had a hand on her wand, but Umbridge was faster.

“ _ Crucio! _ ”

Lydia really hadn’t expected the force of the spell.

It had her screaming louder than she thought possible, and when she was let from the spell again, she was on the floor, presumably knocked from her chair. Umbridge stood over her.

“You’re much too pretty to bleed,” Umbridge told her, bending down to wipe the blood from the edge of Lydia’s mouth. “Pity.”

Then the wand was pointed at her again, and Lydia tried to lift her arm.

It felt numb.

“Ah, ah, dear. I wouldn’t try to move just yet.”

Then Umbridge put her under the curse again, and it was  _ worse. _

The pain was so unbearable she though she might die. She was screaming again, but the burning in her throat and the blood running out of her mouth was unnoticed.

Her back's scar was burning worse than it ever burned before, the pain setting her alight inside. She would split down the middle of her back, she thought. Her organs would fall out of her body, and she would lay with them on the stone floor, blood seeping out. A professor might find her later, hours after her corpse had cooled.

Her only regret is that she hadn’t cursed Umbridge to her face, and she would never be able to improve on her speed. She wanted to have the chance, to get better at dueling, to get real revenge against Umbridge.

Oh, the entrail expelling curse sounded  _ so goddamn good _ right now.

The curse was lifted, but she didn’t stop spasming long enough to watch Umbridge leave. Even so, she could hear the door click shut.

“ _ Oh you, fucking bitch!”  _ she tried to yell, but it came out as a cracking whisper. Her throat was raw.

She tried to move her feet, her arms, her neck. But nothing moved. Panicking briefly, Lydia wondered if she’d died and her soul hadn’t gotten the memo yet.

As Lydia looked to her torso, she noticed her necklace hanging out of her collar, just resting on her chest innocently.

“Okay, got this. Just…”

Jutting her chin out as far as she could, Lydia dropped it on one of the charms. She didn’t know which one, but it warmed beneath her chin and she sighed.

_ Help, soon. I’ll get help. _

* * *

Harry had been having a good evening with Hermione and Ron, pushing his worries about Lydia to the back of his mind to try beating Ron at chess.

Neville had joined them for some reason, having gotten bored of third wheeling with Ginny and Luna. No, the girls weren’t dating yet, but it was clear as Ron and Hermione’s budding romance, and bound to happen.

“Oh, you’re losing that pawn, mate!” Ron shouted gleefully.

Harry was in the middle of laughing in response, when the necklace Lydia had made him seared hot against his chest.

His hand came to grab it.

“What-?”

Neville narrowed eyes at him.

“Is that your charm?”

Hermione frowned.

“Why would a charm heat up?”

Harry ignored her, and said, holding the daisy charm in his fingers, “Yeah. But why? Lydia, you there?”

A groan that sounded too much like Lydia for comfort came from the charm.

“Lydia, Lydia what’s wrong?"

She coughed, and it sounded dangerously wet.

“Umbridge’s a bitch.”

Hermione gasped at the language, but she was ignored again.

“What happened with Umbridge?” Harry demanded, only restrained by his confusion. “Where are you?”

“Umbridge office. Get...fuck. Mam. Pomfrey.”

Hermione gasped as Lydia seemed to choke, and told Neville, “Get Madam Pomfrey, we’ll meet her at the office.”

Neville ran out the portrait hole just as Lydia had an hour before.

“Ju-just Harry.” Lydia gasped.

“Well that’s rude!” Hermione huffed. “You’d think she’d want all the help she could get.”

“Y’all,” Lydia gasped, "I’m socially awk’ard.”

Ron tried to stifle his laugh, but it didn't work.

“Lydia, you’re not even aware enough to notice us, I bet.”

Ron balked at her.

“What? it’s true. She’s probably about to faint.”

“ _ Hermione!”  _ Harry hissed. “I’ll be there soon, okay Lydia?” Harry spoke, taking no argument from his friends. 

“...’kay.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Mhm,” Lydia said, sounding very asleep.

It sounded like a door was opening then, and they heard Madam Pomfrey say, “Longbottom, fetch Snape. I’ll need several blood replenishers. Wait in the infirmary for us.”

“Oh, why me?!”

“Hermione will get Snape, Madam Pomfrey!” Harry said through the charm.

Hermione nodded and was off, and Ron waved Harry through the portrait after her.

As Harry began to run towards Umbridge’s office, he heard Madam Pomfrey’s shriek of surprise at his voice, and gave himself a second to laugh.

“Potter, get your Head of House aware, and ask her to inform Lydia’s guardians. I assume you’ll be meeting up with us afterwards.”

“Will do, Ma’am.”

It didn’t take too long for Harry to convince Professor McGonagall to follow him. All he’d needed to say was, “Madam Pomfrey has Lydia and-” and then she’d sighed out something about unofficial mothers doing mothering and getting on her nerves.

When they made it to Umbridge’s office, Lydia was still lying there, blood seeping from her mouth and her head in Neville’s lap. Madam pomfrey was hovering a wand over her, mouthing various spells.

“Poppy, is she…”

Harry glanced away from Lydia’s almost unconscious body to Madam Pomfrey.

“I don’t know yet. I need Severus’ potions first. Have you called her guardians?”

“Yes, her mother and grandfather will be picked up as soon as she’s stabilized. I thought Mister Potter might be a good distraction for her while you work.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded.

“Yes, you’re quite right. Mister Potter, keep Lydia awake.”

Harry kneeled next to Neville, who was quizzing Lydia on Herbology and brushing his fingers through the hair that was out of its hair tie.

“Lydia, what’s the incantation to repair an object?”

“Re-Reparo.”

Snape walked in then, and carefully administered what Harry knew to be blood replenishing potions.

“She’s stable, Poppy, Minerva.”

Minerva put a hand to her chest in what had to be relief, and Madam Pomfrey conjured a stretcher.

“Good. Help me leviyate her, will you, Severus? I’m not as energized as I need to be for this.”

Professor McGonagall rested a hand on Madam Pomfrey’s arm.

“Then you should rest up, we’ll do any non-healing spells.”

With that, she and Snape were working together to rest Lydia on the stretcher and began levitating it down the halls.

Neville kept up with it almost desperately, clutching Lydia’s hand.

Harry would be keeping an eye on that.

Lydia had been stabilized fairly quickly after getting in the hospital wing, and Professor McGonagall was quick out the door to retrieve whoever her guardian was. Neville had been on the brink of tears, so he had been given a sleeping potion and was asleep in a bed next to Lydia’s. Harry felt bad for the boy, he obviously cared very much for Lydia. 

Again, he would be keeping an eye on that. Maybe he should write ~~Siri~~ Simon for overprotective advice. 

“Mister Potter, would you please explain what happened? I’m afraid Lydia's going to be out for a little while.”

“Is she gonna be okay?”

Snape nodded his head. 

“Yes, though she’d have been better if not for an obviously Gryffindor plan.”

“What’s that supposed to-”

Madam Pomfrey sighed sharply. 

“ _ Enough, _ both of you! Severus, thank you for your help. I’m sure you have better things to do than argue with a child. Mister Potter, Lydia will be fine after rest. Now, the story?”

Snape left, and Harry bowed his head, thoroughly chastised. 

“Lydia was with Umbridge, and after a half hour or so of her being gone I felt my necklace begin to warm up.”

Madam Pomfrey held up a hand. 

“Necklace? Warm up?”

Harry nodded and showed her. 

“That charm there, it’s Lydia’s. It’s almost like a floo connection, with just audio. She made it.”

She smiled then, almost fond. 

“Ah, I should have realized it would be her own charms work. Go on.”

“Well,” Harry said, not looking up as Professor McGonagall and what he was sure was Lydia's godfather entered. “I talked to her, and she told me she needed you, um, Madam Pomfrey. And...yeah. I don’t know what happened, just that she coughed up a lot of blood.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded, and turned to face their new guests. 

“You would be her grandfather, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am. My name is Louie Linden, and this is Nicky.”

Nicky, cuddled against the man’s shoulder, waved. 

“Hello, dear,” Madam Pomfrey whispered, “I’m Madam Pomfrey and I’m going to heal your sister. But you know what I think might help?”

“What?”

“Well, I’ve always thought cuddles were a type of healing magic. So why don’t you cuddle up with Lydia?”

Nicky was let down onto the bed with Lydia carefully, and he rubbed at his eyes tiredly before curling around her side. 

In her sleep, Lydia shifted just slightly to hold him. 

Harry didn’t bother listening to the adults talk too much, just focused on Lydia and her brother. Asleep, she looked less scary. Less formidable, less angry with the world. Her forehead was smoothed out of its frown, her muscles were lax compared to their usually tightness, even her grip on Nicky seemed less strict, like she knew they were safe in sleep. 

It was sad, really. He knew he himself didn’t look as stressed in sleep, Ron told him so all the time. But it was different hearing it rather than seeing it on a girl that he, quite honestly, saw as a sister. He felt this urge to protect her, even if she could gut a person without flinching. 

~~Sirius~~ Simon always joked that they would be perfect for each other, but it wasn’t like that for Harry. He loved Lydia, yes, but he wasn’t  _ in love  _ with her. It was an important distinction. 

For him, Lydia was the only person he didn’t feel a need to be brave for. Even Ron and Hermione got worried when he admitted he didn’t feel brave, but Lydia just didn’t need his bravery like everyone else did. It was just unneeded for her. She never needed anything from him. 

It was refreshing. 

And Harry didn’t want to ask her for things, because she never asked him for things, but…

“Lydia,” he whispered, “I know we don’t ask each other for things. I know we don’t work that way. But I really need to ask you, just this once, to do me a favor.  _ Please _ , wake up and be okay. It’s two things, I know. But please. I’ll do anything you want. Just be okay.”

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, Professor McGonagall’s, and he stood to move out of the way so Mister Linden could sit. 

After a moment of them all just standing around with seemingly no direction, Lydia’s hand moved to grasp her grandfather’s. 

“Grandfather?”

“Here, I’m here.”

“Is it - am I holding Nicky?”

“Yes. Is that okay?”

“Good. It’s really good. Where-?”

Madam Pomfrey came to kneel by her side then, and said, “Infirmary, my sweet. We need you to tell us what Umbridge did, so we can heal you.”

Lydia was struggling to open her eyes. Madam Pomfrey dimmed the lights with her wand. 

“She tried to dose me with something. Didn’t drink it. Cruciatus, twice.”

Professor McGonagall made an almost hissing noise. Could animagi take in their animal traits?

“ _ Twice! _ Oh why I-”

Madam Pomfrey was business as always, but her voice seemed cold, almost. 

“Evidence, Minerva. Check for what she might have tried dosing Lydia with. Do a full scan of the room, for memory.”

Professor McGonagall left then, and Madam Pomfrey began doing several spells, none of which Harry had heard before. 

“Will someone explain what this...cruciatus...is?” Lydia's grandfather asked.

“It’s a torture curse, sir,” Harry told him, “It makes every nerve on your body hurt. It’s a curse so bad they call it an Unforgivable. Gets you straight to prison.”

“And where is this woman? Surely you can’t have let her run off?”

The question was directed to Madam Pomfrey, but Lydia snorted a little. 

“Centaurs. She’s with them.”

Madam Pomfrey looked at her like she was insane. Harry repeated what Lydia had said, but more eloquently. 

“It’s true, Madam Pomfrey. Lydia sent her after a fake lead on Dumbledore, she should be with the herd still. They hate humans.”

Sighing, Madam Pomfrey asked, “Why the centaurs?”

Lydia gave a pain hazed grin.

“If she’s with them she’s out of the castle. I was hoping we could finally get some peace in this bloody school.”

Harry could tell Madam Pomfrey wanted to laugh but couldn’t because of professionalism. 

“Okay, okay. Drink this, it’ll help you sleep. And you’ll be grateful for it, there’s much healing to be done.”

Lydia drank the potion down with barely a grimace, which Harry knew from experience was no small feat. 

She was asleep in minutes, and Harry and Neville were being rushed out. 

* * *

When Lydia wakes again, slowly and rested, her bedside is full of people. It’s startling, and she jokes, “Wow, Madam Pomfrey must be going mad with so many of you here.”

George’s neck snaps from where it had been resting on their clasped hands, and he exclaims, “What the  _ fuck,  _ Lydia? Really, what the actual bloody fuck?!”

“I uh, I think she gets it George-slash-Fred,” Neville sighs, nudging Fred awake. He looks much too stressed. “How are you feeling, Lydia?”

She shrugged, immediately letting out a hiss of pain. 

“I was gonna say alright, but  _ fuck _ , never mind.”

Nicky, thumb in his mouth worriedly, climbed on the bed. Her grandfather helped him get his feet up and settle carefully against Lydia’s side. 

“Ouch?”

“Yeah, ouch. Hi Grandfather, these are my friends.”

He gave her a terse kind of smile, his worry showing. 

“Yes, they’ve been passionately regaling me with your adventures.”

“I wouldn’t say I go on  _ adventures _ ,” Lydia denied, scrunching her nose. “That’s more of the trio’s thing.”

Harry, where he had been watching Luna draw on his knee, frowned. 

“You call us the trio?”

“It fits, Lightning. The one thing Skeeter got right. Where’s Madam Pomfrey?”

The woman came around the closed curtain as if on cue. 

“Here, and kicking you all out! Unless you’re her guardian or brother, out!”

Neville, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna got up with some muttering, Colin heaving a sleeping Natalie with them. 

Madam Pomfrey glared at the remaining three - Fred, George, and Harry - and pointed towards the door silently. 

“We’re her brothers, Ma’am,” Fred said stubbornly, a hand holding Lydia's ankle as her hands were occupied. 

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. 

“If your name is not Nicky McBrien or Louie Linden,  _ leave. _ ”

Harry left then, telling Lydia, “Simon’s expecting a letter as soon as you get out of here. I barely kept him from breaking in to see you.”

Lydia snorted at that, nodding. 

Fred squeezed her ankle as he stood, laying a kiss to her hair. 

“You better heal up, Princess. We’ve got plans this summer.”

“I will, Freddie,” she smiled, before squeezing George’s hand. “It’s okay, I’ll see you soon.”

He laid a kiss on her cheek. 

“If you get hurt again I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Mhm, I bet. Get going, pea brain. I’d rather Madam Pomfrey not get arrested for murder.”

When they too were gone, Madam Pomfrey sighed and sat in one of the free chairs. 

“What’s the scale, Lydia?”

“I think I’ll be playing cards for awhile, Mam.”

Her grandfather’s eyebrows quirked at the nickname, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Mm,” Madam Pomfrey hummed, “What hurts specifically?”

“Is everything an option? Wait, I can't feel my tongue, so not everything.”

Madam Pomfrey stood up then and went to her potion cabinet. 

Lydia’s grandfather took the moment to say, “Next time you want a teacher out of school, form a backup plan. This is child play, Lydia.”

“I had a backup plan! I was gonna expel her entrails if she tried to hurt me. But I didn’t account for her cursing me before we even left her office!”

Nicky looked up at her and shook his head as solemnly as a six year old could. 

“Lydi, ‘count for  _ everything!" _

She snorted. 

“I see you’re already teaching him, Grandfather.”

Madam Pomfrey walked by in then, and set a multitude of potions on the bedside table. 

“I waited longer than with you. Besides, he’ll need it.”

There was only a moment of silence while Madam Pomfrey finished lining up the potions, and Lydia asked, “Where’s Mom?”

“She...she’s at home. Sleeping off-”

“An extra shift, right.”

With a sigh, Lydia reached forward for the pain potion Madam Pomfrey held out, but a sharp pain shot up her spine. 

“ _ Oh hell! _ That one was my back.”

Madam Pomfrey let out a huff of breath. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t think this would trigger your spine injury. I hate to say it, dear, but you’re not leaving my hospital wing until the end of term. Even then, you’ll be going right to the train. I expect weekly letters about your condition, too!”

“Yes’m. Can I have some food now? I haven’t eaten since lunch before everything.”

“Of course, of course. Which elf are you fond of?”

“Rosy, but Lilsey’s also been taking care of me.”

“Lilsey!” Madam Pomfrey called out. 

There was a moment of anticipation before Lilsey popped into existence at the foot of Lydia's bed. 

“How mays Lilsey be helping Mistress Pomfy?” The elf’s eyes hooked onto Lydia. “Lydi’s! Why is yous hurt?!”

Lydia reached out and patted Lilsey’s hand. 

“Don’t worry, Lilsey, I’ll be okay. Umbridge hurt me. But I was wondering if I could have some food?”

Lilsey nodded. 

“Lilsey be getting lots of veggies to heal Miss Lydi!”

A moment later, Lilsey was handing Lydia a large platter of vegetables. 

“Can Lilsey be helping more?”

“Yes, actually,” Madam Pomfrey spoke. “Could you bring Lydia small and healthy meals every few hours, please? She’ll be here until term ends.”

“Yes Missus Pomfy! Lilsey be doing that!”

Lilsey popped away again.

A moment of silence occurred between them, broken by Nicky trying asparagus. 

“ _ Ew! _ ”

* * *

The train ride is boring, for the most part. Lydia sits with her friends, all of them squished in one compartment. It’s inefficient, but Ginny and Luna seem happy to sit on the luggage rack, so she’s not going to tell them they can’t. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Lydia says suddenly into the quiet chatter only a few hours into their ride home. “I mean, next year who’s going to force me to take care of myself without you three?”

Lee,, Angelina, and Alicia look suddenly horrified, and it’s a funny look on them.

Katie rolls her eyes.

“Oh, please, I'll still be on your arse about things. And if you think Neville won't be helping me, you’re mistaken. isn’t that right, Neville?”

Neville nods, but at her betrayed look, says, “Sorry, Lydia.”

“Besides, you have to be healthy. Maeve and I need good models of behavior!” Natalie pipes up from Colin’s lap, looking too happy about that.

Maeve, on the floor reading, nods and the two girls high five.

“What the hell!” Lydia yells, flopping against Neville’s side with a pained grunt, “I can’t be a mother, I’m sixteen!”

Neville pats her head.

“Should’ve thought of that before you started picking up strays, love. It’s your own fault.”

She simply pouts up at him.

“Don’t worry, Lydia,” Angelina placates with a smile, “You’ve only got two more years left and you’ll be able to see us whenever you’d like.”

“Who knows how much longer school will be open though, with the war.”

Neville hummed at that, then asked, “How much longer until You-Know-Who makes an appearance? People need to know he’s really back.”

Lee changed the subject hastily, “We should all meet up to see triple-W! I think it’s almost set up.”

Discussion changed to the shop then, something they were all very excited for.

They’re in their final hour of the train ride home when there’s a knock to the compartment door.

Lydia’s the only one not snoozing aside from Alicia, who’s preoccupied with playing with Katie’s hair.

“Come in,” Lydia whispers, placing her bookmark. The potions she’s been taking make her motion sick, but she refuses to stop reading.

Padma peeks her head in, tiptoeing in fully with Heidi, Terry, Rhys, and Daichi behind her.

“Hey Lydia, how are you feeling?”

She raised a thumb.

“Awful, but I’m alright. I’ve just got an indefinite amount of potions to take.”

Daichi grimaced.

“You know what’s really good to take potions? Mixing it in with food. I always put it in soup.”

Terry swiveled to look at her in disgust.

“ _ Soup?!" _

They ignored him, and Heidi passed Lydia a mug full of ice chips.

“This always helps me with nausea from pain potions.

“Thanks, Heidi. Y’all be safe this summer, alright?”

They nodded, and one by one left.

Finally, only Rhys was still standing.

“Hey, bitter boy.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I was right.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“About what?”

“When I said I wanted to stick around because you were bound to do something stupid. I was right. Except it wasn’t as funny as I thought it’d be.”

She grinned at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do plenty of more stupid things.”

“No!” He exclaimed, before lowering his voice, “No. Don’t...don’t be stupid again.”

She smiled at him.

“Do you care, Rhys Bailey?

“”Shut up. Of course I don’t. Stupid just doesn’t look right on you.” He stood there for a moment, then abruptly said, “Bye.”

“Rhys, I care about you, too.”

He shut the door.

Lydia laughed.

On the platform, bracketed on either side by Ginny and Luna as she waited for whoever would be picking her up, Lydia watched Harry walk away a few paces behind a group of three.

She was pretty sure it was the Dursley’s, because the woman had a neck like a giraffe, and the younger boy looked like the man. The man looked something resembling a walrus. From Harry’s descriptions, that was his relatives.

“Lu, will you pass me that pebble?”

Luna pressed it gently into her hand, and Lydia chucked it at Harry’s foot.

He tripped, and turned around. Spotting her, he glared.

She ignored it, and made a motion with her finger in the shape of a pig’s tail. 

Harry huffed out a laugh, stifling it when the woman turned around and hissed something at him.

Suddenly, Simon came walking out of the station’s loo and yelled at Harry, “HARRY! Where are you going?”

Harry tilted his head in confusion, then excitement.

“Come on,” Lydia whispered to Ginny and Luna, “I want to see this up close.”

They tiptoed to the edge of where a crowd had begun to gather, some noticing Harry.

“Excuse me, why are you lot trying to take my nephew? He belongs with me.”

“ _ Pardon, sir? _ ” Mr. Dursley huffed, “This is my nephew, you’re mistaken.”

Simon faced Harry.

“Excuse me, son, are you Harry James Potter? I was given custody of you recently.”

“Really, sir? I am!”

“Oh, he’s really playing it up,” Ginny snickered. “This is hilarious.”

“Take him!” Mrs. Dursley exclaimed, “We don’t want him.”

“Petunia-”

“Vernon, this is our chance!” She shoved Harry towards Simon, and began to run.”

“GOOD RIDDANCE!” Vernon screamed.

Lydia’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my god, they didn’t even...wow.”

Simon grabbed Harry in a side hug, and walked over to Lydia, Ginny, and Luna.

“Little bird, little bird’s friends.”

They all gave varying awkward waves or smiles.

“Hello, Mister Simon,” Luna beamed, “It was nice of you to come for Harry. I’m glad you’re allowed to walk in public.”

Simon and Lydia’s gazes snapped to each other, and both their minds seemed to play the same message.

_ ‘How does she know?!’ _

But really, if Lydia learned anything this year, it should have been that Luna always knew more than anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Loves! I've really been struggling with writing recently, s I'm going to take a two wee break (meaning you'll miss two posts) to try and fix it. I've been very busy with my junior year of high school, so I've not been prioritizing fanfiction very much. (Thus the late chapter this week) Apologies, and I hope the following chapters are better. <3
> 
> words: 7275 (O_O)


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